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ALAMO 


AND 


OTHER   VERSES 


^ From  the  desert  I  come  to  tkee' 


PUBLISHED  BY 

EDWARD  McQueen  gray 

Croftonhill  Ranch,  Florence,  New  Mexico 

LONDON 

Care  of  A.  &  F.  DENNY 

304  Strand,  W.  C. 


Copyright 
MDCCCXCVIII 

BY 

EDWARD   McQueen   gray 


ENTERED   AT  STATIONERS     HALL 

All  rights  reserved 


SMCK  ANNEX 


Parae  nee  inuideo  sine  me  liber  ibis  in  urbem 
Hei  mihi  quo  domino  non  licet  ire  tuo. 

Uade  liber  uerbisque  meis  loca  grata  saluta 
Contingam  certe  quo  licet  ilia  pede. 

Longa  uia  est  propera  nobis  habitabitur  orbis 
Ultimus  a  terra  terra  remota  mea. 


1316751 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arcliive 

in  2007  witli  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littpV/www.arcliive.org/details/alamootlierversesOOgrayiala 


TO    THE    PUBLIC. 

The  proceeds  of  the  sale  of  this  Httle  volume  are 
to  be  applied  in  defraying  the  expenses  of  a  Free 
Circulating  Library  and  Literary  Institute  at  Florence, 
New  Mexico.  Access  to  a  store  of  sound  literature 
is  a  social  need,  and  nowhere  is  it  more  urgent  than 
in  this  secluded  district,  remote  from  the  centres  of 
civilization  and  cut  oflf  by  its  isolated  position  from 
the  common  interchange  of  thought  and  knowledge. 
It  is  the  earnest  desire  of  the  writer  to  mitigate  as 
far  as  possible  this  intellectual  deprivation,  and  he 
places  his  book  in  the  hands  of  the  public  in  the 
hope  that  by  their  kindly  support  he  may  win  for 
his  desire  fulfilment.  All  who  feel  sufficiently  inter- 
ested in  the  matter  to  wish  for  information  as  to  the 
progress  of  the  enterprise  are  cordially  invited  to 
communicate  with  the  writer. 

7 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

To  America  :   Proem 1 1 

Alamo i6 

mocking-bird 50 

In  Arcady 57 

The  Lone  Star  of  Texas 61 

At  the  Meet 69 

Epode 77 

Dear  Little  Friend 80 

To  the  Pecos  Valley 84 

Sweet  Emma  Moreland 89 

The  Exile's  Message 92 

Victoria 98 

Heart  of  the  Sea 105 

I  Called  to  Love 117 

Three  Wishes 127 

Rio  Pecos,  Pecos  River 147 

L'Envoi 164 

9 


TO   AMERICA:    PROEM. 


Chief  daughter  of  a  lordly  race, 

The  eldest-born  and  mightiest  thou, 

Freedom  is  in  thy  step,  and  grace 
Is  on  thy  brow. 


Lo,  where  thy  spreading  garments  sweep 
From  icy  North  to  torrid  South, 

Atlantic  and  Pacific  leap 
To  kiss  thy  mouth. 


From  keys  where  endless  summer  burns, 
Land  that  of  seasons  knows  but  one. 

To  yon  dim  Cape  that  vainly  yearns 
For  sight  of  sun. 


la  TO  AMERICA  :   PROEM. 

About  thy  head  the  icebergs  meet, 
Near  neighbour  of  the  frozen  sea; 

The  Gulfstream  bathes  thy  burning  feet 
And  smiles  at  thee. 


Before  the  rising  sun  can  gild 
The  edge  of  thy  Pacific  Slope, 

Thy  Eastern  noon  has  seen  fulfilled 
The  morning's  hope. 


The  weary  day  has  sunk  to  rest 
Long  since  on  thy  Atlantic  shores; 

Yet  still  on  Catalina's  crest 
The  sunlight  pours. 

Among  thy  sons  I  see  thee  stand, 
Thy  firm  dominion  none  assails; 

Across  a  thousand  leagues  of  land 
Thy  word  prevails. 


TO  AMERICA  :   PROEM.  13 

Amid  the  blaze  imperial 

Of  high  and  haughty  dynasty 
I  see  thee  pass,  thy  coronal 

Simplicity. 


Unvanquished  Virgin  of  the  West! 

Undaunted  daughter  of  the  Dawn! 
Remember  that  from  England's  breast 

Thy  milk  was  drawn. 


We  blame  thee  not  that  thou  didst  cast 
The  hand  that  would  restrain  away, 

And  deemed  the  rule  that  held  thee  fast 
A  tyrant's  sway. 

We  bear  no  grudge  that  thou  didst  win 
The  fight  that  left  thy  nation  free ; 

Our  hearts  were  with  thee  then,  thy  kin 
Approved  of  thee. 


14  TO  AMERICA  :   PROEM. 

Yet  think  not  short-lived  injuries 
Endured  a  while,  avenged  at  last, 

Outweigh  the  glorious  centuries 
Together  passed. 


Partaker  in  our  ancient  fame, 

Our  history  thy  heritage, 
The  herald  scrolls  of  England  claim 

Thy  lineage. 

Thou  art  a  sister  of  the  Blood; 

Thou  art  a  daughter  of  the  House ; 
Great  offspring  of  a  giant  brood, 

Thy  heart  arouse: 


Upon  the  shore  thy  brothers  stand. 
Thy  mother  looks  across  the  sea ; 

Sister,  step  forth  and  take  the  hand 
She  offers  thee. 


TO  AMERICA  :    PROEM.  15 

Forgotten  be  the  former  feud, 

Remembered  not  the  bitter  score, 
Be  mutual  love  and  faith  renewed 

For  evermore. 


Cousin — for  thou  no  colder  name 
From  lips  of  mine  slialt  ever  hear — 

Behold,  I  come  to  thee  and  claim 
A  word  of  cheer. 


ALAMO. 

A  lurid  lustre  cast 

Upon  the  page  of  Time 

Displays  a  dismal  past 

Of  havoc  and  a  sight 

Of  sacrifice  sublime, 

Of  heroes  burning  bright 

With  patriotic  fire; 

A  solemn  funeral  pyre. 
That  holy  ground,  that  sacred  sod, 
Where  once  the  Mission  fathers  trod 
And  humbly  knelt  before  their  God, 

More  sacred,  holier  far 
Became  when  streamed  the  crimson  flood 
Of  patriots  who  for  freedom  stood, 
And  stained  thy  altar  with  their  blood, 

Antonio  de  Bexar. 
i6 


ALAMO.  17 

A  peaceful  convent  stood 

Within  a  precinct  wall; 

Where  once  the  cottonwood 

Its  grateful  shadow  gave, 

The  Mission  bell  would  call 

Comanche  squaw  and  brave 

To  worship  and  to  prayer; 

What  thought  of  bloodshed  there? 
Yet  stricken  field  has  never  seen 
A  sterner  shock,  a  fight  more  keen, 
More  ruthless,  than  the  final  scene 

Thy  ruined  walls  can  show. 
When  those  whose  souls'  heroic  flame 
Opposing  thousands  could  not  tame, 
In  death  immortalized  thy  name. 

Memorial  Alamo. 


Though  spring  had  hardly  shown 
Her  face  upon  the  land. 
Her  harbingers  had  blown 


i8  ALAMO. 

The  sullen  winter  north. 
By  southern  breezes  fanned 
A  warmer  air  put  forth, 
All  nature  with  its  breath 
To  wake  to  life  from  death. 
So  Texas  woke,  the  tyrant's  chain 
Regarding  with  a  high  disdain, 
Upon  her  country's  sons  in  pain 

Called  loud  for  aid,  and  then 
From  east  to  west  the  answer  rang. 
To  arms  the  fearless  Texan  sprang. 
The  land  resounded  with  the  clang 
And  tramp  of  armed  men. 


Alas,  that  sunshine  brief 
The  chord  had  scarcely  stirred 
Of  happiness,  when  grief 
The  champaign  overspread. 
A  wintry  blast  was  heard; 
Down  dropped  the  lily  dead; 


ALAMO.  19 


Upon  the  land  below 

Lay  like  a  pall  the  snow. 
Devoted  Texas!  swiftly  passed 
That  day  of  joy,  and  with  the  blast 
Of  chill  defeat  that  overcast 

Thy  sky  of  hope,  a  foe 
That  knew  no  mercy,  honour  none. 
Inhuman  cut-throats  every  one, 
Moved  on  to  train  the  deadly  gun 

On  San  Antonio. 


The  tale  were  long  to  tell 
Of  Spanish  tyranny; 
By  Mexican  as  well 
The  Texan  settler  crushed 
Demanded  liberty 
In  vain,  then  fiercely  rushed 
Upon  the  foe,  in  flame 
And  sword  his  nation's  name 
To  vindicate,  and  prove  again 


20  ALAMO. 

The  sons  of  Norman,  Saxon,  Dane, 
That  swept  the  Spaniard  from  the  main 

And  cast  him  on  the  strand, 
As  dauntless  were  and  reckless  still, 
As  fit  to  curb  the  Spaniards'  will. 
And  make  him  humbly  own  their  skill 

In  battle  on  the  land. 


Within  a  space  of  days 
Scarce  thought  upon,  so  swift 
They  passed,  the  victor's  bays 
Had  graced  each  warrior's  brow. 
Short  was  the  tyrant's  shrift; 
A  day  of  triumph  now 
The  patriots  had  won; 
For  them  still  shone  the  sun. 
Then  first  the  Texan's  haughty  foe 
Beheld  amid  his  overthrow 
The  flag  he  later  learned  to  know 
Too  well,  when  from  Bexar 


ALAMO. 

His  sullen  squadrons  backward  drew, 
And  flauntingly  flung  forth  to  view, 
Blazed  out  upon  a  field  of  blue 
Alone,  a  golden  star. 

The  men  that  gathered  there 

Were  heroes  one  and  all; 

Was  naught  they  would  not  dare 

To  do  in  freedom's  cause; 

Adventurers  we  call 

Those  who  but  Nature's  laws 

Obey,  and  scorn  man's  creed; 

Yet  in  the  hour  of  need 
Such  men  as  those  have  saved  a  state; 
They  dare  to  challenge  death  and  fate, 
Like  that  old  man  who  from  debate 

And  council  breaking  free. 
Cried,  laying  bare  his  locks  of  snow, 
"  With  old  Ben  Milam  who  will  go 
Right  into  San  Antonio? 

Up,  boys,  and  follow  me!  " 


ALAMO. 

That  gallant  fighter  led 

Three  hundred  such  as  he; 

Among  the  deathless  dead 

Who  paid  for  victory 

His  name  will  ever  be 

A  living  memory; 

And  Texas  still  shall  tell 

The  spot  where  Milam  fell. 
Four  days,  four  nights,  the  fighting  sped, 
From  house  to  house  the  foemen  fled, 
The  streets  were  cumbered  with  the  dead 

In  San  Antonio: 
Till  on  the  fifth,  in  headlong  flight 
Hurled  from  the  plaza,  in  affright 
The  foe  fell  back,  and  banner  white 

Disgraced  the  Alamo. 


The  victory  was  won. 
The  struggle  overpast; 
And  ere  the  set  of  sun 


ALAMO.  23 

The  Mexican  command 

Departing,  from  the  last 

Of  tyrants  freed  the  land. 

The  young  republic  rose 

Victorious  o'er  her  foes. 
Then,  Texas,  in  thy  triumph's  hour, 
From  San  Fernando's  belfry  tower 
Rang  out  a  chime  that  swept  with  power 

To  Mission  Concepcion: 
Then  San  Jose  and  far  San  Juan 
Took  up  the  peal  and  passed  it  on, 
Till  San  Francisco's  bastion 

Reechoed  with  the  tone. 


On  distant  Mexico 
The  news  of  her  disgrace 
Fell  like  a  sudden  blow. 
The  tyrant  deeply  swore 
To  extirpate  the  race 
Of  rebels  and  in  gore 


24  ALAMO. 

To  wipe  away  the  shame 

Of  downfall  from  the  name 
Of  that  mixed  horde  whose  lineage  base, 
Declining  from  the  courtly  race 
That  bore  the  Don's  patrician  face, 

Hidalgo  and  creole, 
Had  reached  a  vile  and  mongrel  crew, 
Mestizo  convicts  dark  of  hue, 
Besotted  clods,  who  hardly  knew 

Possession  of  a  soul. 


Four  thousand  men  on  foot 
And  half  as  many  more 
On  horseback  took  the  route 
That  eastward  leads  below 
The  Rio  Grande's  shore 
To  San  Antonio. 
The  ravage  of  their  hand 
Spread  terror  through  the  land. 
Where  then  was  Texas?     From  afar 


ALAMO.  .     25 

Her  sons  beheld  the  tide  of  war 
Roll  on  unchecked,  nor  dared  to  bar 

Its  passage,  and  the  foe 
Pressed  on  amid  the  cannon's  boom 
In  serried  ranks,  while  sullen  gloom 
And  sad  presentiment  of  doom 

Held  San  Antonio. 


Some  six  or  seven  score 

Of  stalwart  volunteers 

The  city  reached  before 

The  enemy  drew  nigh. 

Men  those  that  knew  not  tears, 

Stern-lipped  and  keen  of  eye'; 

Theirs  not  to  heed  or  care, 

Theirs  but  to  do  and  dare. 
There  dauntless  Travis  led  his  band, 
There  Bowie  made  his  desperate  stand. 
And  reckless  Crockett  from  the  land 

Of  distant  Tennessee 


26  ALAMO. 

Burst  in  with  twelve  backwoodsmen  bold, 
Cast  in  the  same  heroic  mould, 
And  shouted,  "  Fellows,  we've  been  told 
We've  got  to  die  with  ye!  " 

Among  them  thought  of  flight 

Or  fear  of  death  was  none. 

But  rather  fierce  delight 

Through  those  wild  spirits  spread. 

What  though  the  morrow's  sun 

Should  see  them  cold  and  dead? 

To  them  a  gambler's  stake 

Was  life,  to  lose  or  take. 
Men  call  the  desperado's  fame 
His  land's  abasement,  yet  the  same 
Fierce  fire  has  blazed  with  kindred  flame 

Within  her  noblest  sons. 
When  heroes  rapt  with  courage  high. 
Shoulder  to  shoulder,  hand  and  eye 
Unswerving,  calmly  march  to  die 

Before  the  belching  guns. 


ALAMO.  27 

At  midnight,  while  the  dance 

Was  at  its  height,  a  cry 

Was  heard,  "  The  foe  advance!  " 

And  soon  the  rolHng  drum 

Proclaimed  the  danger  nigh. 

The  hour  of  fate  had  come. 

By  noon  the  hostile  van 

Had  reached  the  Alazan, 
Where  Santa  Anna,  with  a  face 
Betokening  nor  ruth  nor  grace, 
His  squadrons  halting  for  a  space 

Upon  the  heights  that  crown 
The  mesa,  sent  abroad  his  fleet 
Guerrilla  horse,  to  bar  retreat 
Or  hope  of  succour  and  complete 

The  leaguer  of  the  town. 


The  foe  came  slowly  on; 
The  volunteers  withdrew 
In  order  every  one 


28  ALAMO. 

Towards  the  Alamo. 
When  Santa  Anna  knew 
The  thrice  accursed  foe 
Lay  thus  within  his  gripe 
He  laughed  aloud,  and  ripe 
For  slaughter^  with  a  monster's  glee 
Destruction  in  supreme  degree 
Prepared  for  those  who  scorned  to  flee 

Before  his  motley  horde, 
This  mandate  sending,  they  should  take 
If  aught  they  cared  for  life's  sweet  sake 
What  terms  soe'er  he  willed  to  make; 
If  not,  then  lire  and  sword 
Should  be  the  rebel's  fate; 
Such  was  his  haughty  word. 
His  messengers,  elate 
And  sure  of  victory 
Returning,  quickly  heard 
The  volunteers'  reply. 
Aloud  the  cannon  spoke, 
And  from  the  Texans  broke 


ALAMO.  29 

A  shout  that  grandly  through  the  blue 
Rang  out  from  loyal  hearts  and  true, 
And  Santa  Anna  surely  knew 

His  foemen  one  and  all 
Were  men  in  battle's  burning  light 
Exulting,  still  their  souls' -delight 
In  freedom's  cause  to  fiercely  fight 

And  fiercely  fighting  fall. 


Such  was  the  answer  stern 
That  gallant  Travis  gave; 
May  still  as  brightly  burn 
The  fire  of  liberty 
Within  us,  and  the  grave 
Seem  but  a  mockery 
Of  words,  a  thing  of  naught, 
And  freedom  cheaply  bought 
By  life  laid  down  in  honour's  cause. 
When  to  defend  her  soil  and  laws 
Our  country  bids  us  to  the  jaws 


30  ALAMO. 

Of  death  and  hell  advance; 
Then,  freemen,  at  your  nation's  call. 
Lay  on  like  men,  and  if  ye  fall, 
Your  country's  banner  be  your  pall, 
And  count  it  happy  chance 
To  die  a  hero's  death; 
'Tis  sanctified  of  God; 
Short  is  our  mortal  breath. 
But  an  immortal  life 
Is  theirs  who,  on  the  sod 
A  consecrated  strife 
Has  hallowed,  for  their  land 
Fall  by  a  tyrant's  hand. 
To  us  the  name  of  Travis  still 
Stands  for  indomitable  will 
And  purpose  undisturbed  by  chill 

Disaster  or  defeat; 
Immovable  as  some  sea  wall 
On  which  in  vain  the  billows  fall, 
He  calmly  wrote :  "  I  never  shall 
"  Surrender  or  retreat." 


ALAMO. 

What  leader  ever  spoke 
A  more  inspiring  word? 
The  serf's  degrading  yoke 
Can  never  bow  the  necks  > 
Of  those  whose  souls  are  stirred 
To  such  resolve,  nor  vex 
The  men  for  whom  the  light 
Of  freedom  burning  bright 
Within  their  hearts  a  guiding  star 
Becomes  that  beckons  from  afar 
And  leads  them  on,  of  peace  and  war 

The  arbiter  supreme; 
Before  it  see  the  tyrant  cower. 
Thrones  totter,  and  unholy  power, 
Deathstricken,  shrivel  like  a  flower 
Beneath  that  scorching  beam. 


Twelve  days  unceasing  falls 
The  cannon's  deadly  shower 
Upon  the  Mission  walls; 


31 


32 


ALAMO. 

Yet  ever  undismayed 
The  Texans  in  the  hour 
Of  that  fierce  cannonade 
Disdain  the  growing  breach, 
And  fiercely  long  to  reach 
The  craven  Mexicans  who  lurk 
Like  dogs  behind  the  lurid  murk 
Of  powder-smoke  and  basely  shirk 

The  final  touch  of  war; 
While  still  their  foe's  defiant  call 
Rings  bravely  from  the  crumbling  wall, 
Still  floats  unsullied  over  all 
The  lonely  golden  star. 


Will  never  succour  come? 
Must  those  brave  men  be  left 
To  face  a  nation's  scum 
Alone,  and  end  their  days 
Abandoned  and  bereft 
Like  very  castaways 


ALAMO. 

Of  all  deliverance? 

Must  hopelessness  enhance 
The  bitterness  of  death,  and  fate 
Relentless  as  their  foemen's  hate 
Pursue  them  ever,  and  create 

With  its  resistless  power 
A  severance  yet  more  complete 
From  all  that  makes  existence  sweet? 
Must  they  forlorn,  forsaken,  greet 

The  final,  fatal  hour? 


Alas!  those  fighters  bold 
That  gathered  for  the  right 
Shall  never  now  behold 
Another  morrow's  birth. 
The  prevalence  of  might 
Is  paramount  on  earth, 
The  victory  of  wrong 
Is  sure,  for  evil  strong 
Encompasseth  us  all,  the  taint 
3 


33 


34  ALAMO. 

Of  man's  corruption  maketh  faint 
The  breath  of  justice,  and  the  plaint 

Of  suffering  unmeet 
Unheeded  passes  evermore, 
While  blockish  multitudes  before 
Success  fall  prostrate  and  adore 

Their  idol's  earthen  feet. 


Yet  one  exulting  throb 
Of  pride  those  heroes  knew, 
When  through  the  savage  mob 
Of  mongrel  soldiery 
Burst  Bonham's  thirty-two 
Brave  comrades  with  a  cry 
That  woke  a  joyous  thrill 
In  every  heart  and  chill 
Abandonment's  embittering  sense 
Dispelled  for  ever,  while  intense 
Delight  of  fellowship  drove  thence 


ALAMO.  35 

Their  sagging  doubts  and  fears; 
No  more  they  felt  themselves  alone, 
Contentment  in  their  faces  shone. 
The  shell-torn  Mission's  every  stone 

Reechoed  to  their  cheers, 

While  every  soldier  pressed 

A  gallant  comrade's  hand 

And  felt  with  swelling  breast 

The  sense  of  brotherhood 

Upholding  him  to  stand 

Unflinchingly,  his  blood 

To  shed  as  one  who  throws 

A  bauble  from  him,  blows 
And  wounds,  with  mangled  flesh  and  torn, 
Contemning  with  the  lofty  scorn 
That  those  to  noblest  uses  born 

May  feel  for  meaner  souls 
Who  dully  drag  a  weary  load 
Of  self  along  the  dreary  road 
Of  life,  while  greed's  corroding  goad 

Their  destiny  controls. 


36  ALAMO. 

Think  what  devotion  means, 
Ye  men  of  colder  blood, 
Like  theirs,  who  in  such  scenes 
As  these  can  scorn  the  path 
That  seems  to  others  good 
And  rather  brave  the  wrath 
Of  tyrants  to  the  death 
Than  draw  a  coward's  breath. 
Of  these  devoted  martyrs  each 
Put  safety  calmly  from  his  reach, 
Resolved  inflexibly  to  teach 

By  his  life's  sacrifice 
The  lesson  nations  need  to  learn, 
And  tyranny  doth  surely  earn. 
The  lesson  that  the  despot  stern 
Has  never  needed  twice. 


Nearer  and  nearer  yet 
The  day  of  trial  draws; 
On  tottering  parapet 


ALAMO.  37 

And  crumbling  Mission  wall 

The  shells  with  never  pause 

From  twoscore  cannon  fall. 

Till  gaping  breaches  made 

By  bomb  and  carronade 
Reveal  the  Texan  volunteers 
To  Santa  Anna's  cannoneers 
Replying  with  derisive  cheers, 

Defiant  to  a  fault. 
"  What,  none  but  these?  "  the  Mexican 
Exclaimed,  "  and  shall  that  rebel  clan 
Defy  me  thus?     Let  every  man 

Advance  to  the  assault!  " 


All  night  the  measured  tramp 
Of  marching  men,  the  shout 
Of  orders  from  the  camp 
Was  heard,  and  with  the  light 
Behind  each  grim  redoubt 
Stood  clustered  troops;  to  right 


38  ALAMO. 

And  left,  in  front  and  rear, 

Their  serried  ranks  appear. 
Three  thousand  men  before  that  frail 
And  falHng  bulwark,  to  assail 
A  scant  two  hundred — did  they  quail, 

Those  Texan  volunteers? 
We  are  not  told,  but  surely  feel 
That  men  like  those,  with  nerves  of  steel, 
In  war's  stern  shock  will  never  reel. 

Can  never  taste  of  fears. 


Short  was  the  breathing  space; 
The  trumpet  sounds  the  charge; 
Across  the  deadly  place 
A  thousand  soldiers  dash. 
Like  some  unwieldy  barge 
That  drives  with  rending  crash 
Upon  a  jagged  rock 
And  quivers  at  the  shock 


ALAMO.  39 

From  stem  to  stern,  then  toppling  back 
With  starting  seams  and  yawning  crack 
Drifts  helplessly  to  utter  wrack 

Upon  the  ruthless  beach, 
In  swift  discomfiture,  pell  mell, 
The  sacred  battalions  backward  fell; 
As  welcome  as  the  mouth  of  hell 

To  them  was  that  torn  breach 

Where  stood  their  dauntless  foes. 

Twice  they  essayed  to  scale 

The  parapet  and  close 

The  struggle,  but  in  vain. 

What  though  a  flimsy  rail 

But  parted  them?    A  rain 

Of  bullets  and  the  thrust 

Of  bowie  in  the  dust 
Laid  many  a  soldier  low;  the  rest, 
Like  children  from  a  hornet's  nest, 
Fled  shrieking,  and  their  bastard  zest 

For  battle  passed  away; 
No  stomach  they  for  such  a  draught, 


40  ALAMO. 

Of  valour's  cup  they  had  not  quaffed, 
They  staggered;  loud  the  Texans  laughed 
To  note  their  disarray. 


"  Will  not  those  rebels  die?  " 

Cried  Santa  Anna,  pale 

With  fury  as  his  eye 

Saw  naught  but  broken  lines 

And  marked  his  soldiers  quail. 

Shall  convicts  from  the  mines 

With  freemen  ever  cope? 

Keep  rather  for  the  rope 
Such  slaves  as  these,  nor  dare  to  mar 
With  felon  gangs  the  ranks  of  war. 
Most  lovely  is  the  honoured  scar 

That  tells  of  bravery ; 
But  loathliest  the  festered  mark 
That  shows  the  chain's  corroding  cark 
Has  seared  the  spirit  with  the  dark 

Disgrace  of  slavery. 


ALAMO. 

At  that  low  wall  askance 
The  swart  mestizos  gazed, 
Nor  dared  again  advance 
Their  columns  to  the  fight. 
Their  leader,  less  amazed 
Than  maddened  at  the  sight 
Of  arrant  cowardice 
That  fears  to  jeopardize 
Its  worthless  life,  in  fury  cried, 
"  My  orders  none  has  yet  defied 
And  lived — the  issue  now  abide. 

You  mongrel  soldiery. 
Let  Sesma  bid  his  squadrons  wheel 
Behind  the  lines  and  draw  the  steel 
Upon  these  dogs,  to  make  them  feel 
No  choice  but  fight  or  die." 


Again  the  trumpet  sounds; 

Again  the  fated  few, 

Like  stags  beset  by  hounds. 


41 


42  ALAMO. 

Or  lion  in  a  snare, 

Unequal  fight  renew. 

Bravest  of  brave  were  they; 

Yet  impotent  to  stay 
With  wearied  arm  and  shattered  sword 
The  course  of  that  o'erwhelming  horde     - 
That  through  the  breach  tumultuous  poured 

Like  ocean's  swelling  tide; 
The  foremost  fall,  yet  wave  on  wave 
Rolls  in  upon  the  vainly  brave 
And  sweeps  them  backward  where  the  grave 

Impartial  opens  wide 

Its  soft  maternal  arms 

To  children  of  the  earth, 

Who  sick  of  wanton  harms 

And  unrelenting  woe 

That  ever  from  their  birth 

Hath  harassed  them,  below 

The  surge  of  tossing  life 

Sink  from  the  bitter  strife 
To  slumber  deep  and  quiet  rest, 


ALAMO.  43 

As  babes  upon  a  mother's  breast 
Asleep,  and  lovingly  caressed 

By  tender  father's  hand; 
At  home  at  last,  their  wandering  o'er, 
They  find  the  peace  on  sea  and  shore 
Long  sought  in  vain,  and  leave  no  more 

The  best  beloved  land. 


The  butchery  begins; 

"  Deguello!  "  is  the  cry; 

And  Santa  Anna  wins 

The  devil's  victory. 

Ah,  what  availeth  high 

Emprise  or  gallantry? 

Yet  fearless  to  the  close 

The  Texans  faced  their  foes. 
From  head  to  foot  with  gore  imbrued, 
Wounded  to  death,  yet  unsubdued. 
Stern  Travis,  by  a  mob  pursued, 

Defiant  to  the  last, 


44  ALAMO. 

Turned  fiercely  with  unbated  will 
Upon  them,  swung  his  arm  to  kill, 
And  shouting,  "  God  and  Texas  still!  " 
That  dauntless  spirit  passed. 


His  back  against  the  wall, 
Towards  the  foe  his  face. 
Each  Texan  stood,  the  call 
Of  freedom  answering. 
To  men  thus  dying,  grace 
Divine  doth  surely  bring 
Remission  of  offence 
And  purge  sin's  consequence 
Away — earth  knows  no  nobler  end 
Of  life  than  his  who  for  a  friend 
In  need  his  blood  will  freely  spend, 

'Tis  sum  of  human  love; 
And  those  who  feed  the  sacred  flame 
Of  freedom  with  their  blood  may  claim 
As  surely  in  their  country's  name 


ALAMO.  45 

Forgiveness  from  above 

For  all  their  errors  past. 

Grant  that  their  lives  had  been 

Ignoble  or  unchaste: 

May  not  the  valour  shown 

In  that  concluding  scene  ' 

For  trespasses  atone 

And  make  their  martyr  blood 

Acceptable  to  God? 
What  though  the  butcher  tyrant's  ire 
Condemned  their  corpses  to  the  pyre? 
The  smoke  that  rose  from  that  fierce  fire 

To  glut  the  victor's  spite 
Bore  heavenward  an  incense  sweet 
That  floated  to  the  judgment  seat 
Of  God  above,  and  made  complete 

The  sacrificial  rite. 


Ah,  had  the  struggle  been 
More  equal,  less  unfair, 


46  ALAMO. 

That  day  had  surely  seen 

An  issue  different. 

Had  Texas  heard  their  prayer 

And  timely  succour  sent? 

But  one  against  a  score! 

Could  gods  themselves  do  more 
Than  those  foredoomed  to  sacrifice, 
Fast  bound  like  falchion  in  a  vice, 
Or  ship  within  the  polar  ice 

Gripped  to  the  bitter  end? 
What  serves  against  the  grinding  floe 
The  strength  of  timbers  but  to  show 
That  heart  of  oak  in  final  throe 

May  break,  but  never  bend? 


Yet  hold,  nor  idly  waste 
In  profitless  regret 
A  sigh  for  those  who  taste 
The  cup  of  martyrdom. 
Mourn  not  for  them,  nor  let 


ALAMO.  47 


One  note  of  sorrow  come 
From  trembling  lips  and  pale, 
But  rather  proudly  hail 
Those  scions  of  heroic  breed, 
Begotten  of  the  self-same  seed 
As  those  who  from  a  prince's  greed 

America  set  free; 
For  them  no  tear  shall  ever  fall. 
Be  sung  no  dirge  funereal. 
But  freedom's  joyous  festival 
Their  requiem  shall  be. 


State  of  the  Lonely  Star! 
These  heroes  died  for  thee; 
They  came  from  lands  afar 
Thy  children  sore  bested 
To  succour  and  set  free 
From  tyranny  and  dread. 
They  came  and  freely  gave 
Their  blood  thy  land  to  save. 


48  ALAMO. 

For  thee  they  died — yet  not  in  vain; 
For  in  that  bitter  hour  the  chain 
That  kept  thee  servile  broke  in  twain 

For  ever,  and  we  know 
How  fiercely  Texas  rose  in  wrath 
And  swept  the  tyrant  from  her  path 
When  San  Jacinto's  bloody  swath 

Avenged  the  Alamo. 


O,  liberty  sublime! 

Divinest  gift  of  God ! 

Defend  throughout  all  time 

Thy  humblest  proselyte. 

And  be  the  hallowed  sod 

That  witnessed  freedom's  fight 

A  consecrated  place 

Where  men  may  see  thy  face. 
Hear  thou  the  captive  nation's  prayer; 
Arise,  thy  majesty  declare. 
Uphold  the  patriots  who  dare 


ALAMO.  49 

A  despot  disobey; 
Unsheath  for  them  thy  falchion  bright, 
Stand  thou  beside  them  in  the  fight, 
And  bring  them  safely  to  the  light 

Of  freedom's  glorious  day. 
4 


MOCKING-BIRD. 


I  awoke  with  the  first  flush  of  dawn, 
While  the  mocking-bird  out  on  the  lawn 
His  psean  was  shrilHng  unresting  and  filling 
My  heart  with  the  promise  of  morn, 

Mocking-bird, 
My  heart  with  the  promise  of  morn. 


I  lay  while  the  gathering  light 
Was  surely  defeating  the  night 
And,  tunefully  swelling,  thy  music  was  telling 
Of  happiness,  love,  and  delight, 

Mocking-bird, 
Of  happiness,  love,  and  delight. 
50 


MOCKING-BIRD.  51 

And  I  knew  the  sweet  singer  of  love, 
The  lark  with  the  heart  of  the  dove, 
The  thicket  was  haunting,  unceasingly  chanting 
A  hymn  to  his  Maker  above. 

Mocking-bird, 
A  hymn  to  thy  Maker  above. 

I  lay  while  the  cadences  rare 
Were  filling  with  music  the  air 
And    bidding    God's    creatures,    thou    sweetest    of 
teachers, 
Rejoice,  and  His  glory  declare, 

Mocking-bird, 
Rejoicing  His  glory  declare. 

I  lay  while  the  shuddering  moon 
Grew  paler  and  paler,  for  soon 
The  sun,  her  fierce  lover,  would  come  and  discover 
Her  heart  to  the  pitiless  noon. 

Mocking-bird, 
Her  heart  to  the  pitiless  noon. 


52  MOCKING-BIRD. 

I  lay  till  an  amberine  ray 
Sped  over  the  prairie  to  play 
At  gilding  the  leafage  and  marking  the  cleavage 
Of  night  from  the  glorious  day, 

Mocking-bird, 
The  cleavage  of  night  from  the  day. 

I  lay  till  a  lancet  of  flame, 
Dashed  swift  with  the  passionate  aim 
Of   the   sunlight,   was   launched   at   the   cottonwood 
branched. 
Whence  thie  voice  of  thy  melody  came, 

Mocking-bird, 
The  voice  of  thy  melody  came. 

It  passed  with  a  truculent  glare 
To  the  bower  where  his  carolling  rare 
The  singer  was  pouring  forth,  sweetly  adoring 
The  God  of  the  fowls  of  the  air, 

Mocking-bird, 
The  God  of  the  fowls  of  the  air. 


MOCKINGBIRD.  53 

It  fell  on  his  quivering  throat, 
And  smote  into  silence  the  note 
That  rising  and  falling  and  plaintively  calling, 
Across  the  alfalfa  did  float. 

Mocking-bird, 
Across  the  alfalfa  did  float. 

It  fell,  and  the  minstrel  was  mute, 
As  when  breath  is  withdrawn  from  the  flute; 
Or  when  a  string  breaking,  its  office  forsaking. 
Has  silenced  the  voice  of  a  lute. 

Mocking-bird, 
The  musical  voice  of  a  lute. 

It  fell,  and  the  singer  was  still; 
Was  silent  the  tremulous  trill 
Whose  lilting  with  gladness  and  sweetness  and  sad- 
ness 
The  heart  of  thy  hearer  did  fill, 

Mocking-bird, 
The  heart  of  thy  hearer  did  fill. 


54  MOCKING-BIRD. 

Was  mute,  while  the  thicket  around 
Still  echoed  the  carolling  sound, 
Then  softly  decreasing  and  faintly  surceasing 
Sank  into  a  silence  profound, 

Mocking-bird, 
Sank  into  a  silence  profound. 

Was  still,  but  I  took  up  the  song, 
For  a  spirit  that  in  me  for  long 
Had  slumbered,  awaking,  its  silence  was  breaking. 
And  Poetry  bore  me  along. 

Mocking-bird, 
Ah,  Poetry  bore  me  along. 

And  I  cried:  O,  thou  marvellous  bird, 
By  thy  magical  melody  stirred. 
All  nature  rejoices  and  musical  voices 

Once  more  by  my  spirit  are  heard. 

Mocking-bird, 
The  musical  voices  are  heard. 


MOCKING-BIRD.  55 

O  bird,  is  thy  singing  of  choice? 
Or  doth  instinct  but  bid  thee  rejoice 
While  daintily  lancing  the  twilight  entrancing 
With  the  shafts  of  thy  quivering  voice, 

Mocking-bird, 
The  quivering  shafts  of  thy  voice? 

O  bird,  can  I  master  thy  art? 
Sweet  singer,  O,  give  me  a  part 
Of  that  jubilant  magic,  that  tearfully  tragic 
Refrain  of  thy  passionate  heart, 

Mocking-bird, 
That  tragic  refrain  of  thy  heart. 

O  bird,  I  must  pay  thee  a  toll; 
For  breaking  is  sorrow's  control; 
Thy  singing  to  gladness  is  changing  my  sadness, 
And  loosing  the  bonds  of  my  soul, 

Mocking-bird, 
Thou'rt  loosing  the  bonds  of  my  soul. 


56  MOCKING-BIRD. 

O  bird,  with  the  song  of  the  thrush, 
The  lark,  and  the  Hnnet,  ah,  hush, 
For  the  sound  of  thy  singing  has  set  my  soul  ringing 
And  music  comes  back  with  a  rush, 

Mocking-bird, 
Comes  back  to  my  soul  with  a  rush. 

O  friend,  I  can  take  up  thy  strain, 
Long,  long  was  I  silent  and  fain 
Had  ended  the  sorrow  that  came  with  each  morrow. 
But  now  I  am  singing  again. 

Mocking-bird, 
Ah,  now  I  am  singing  again. 

O  brother,  my  summons  is  strong. 
And  the  impulse  that  bears  me  along 
My  being  shall  never  forsaking  dissever 
My  heart  from  the  music  of  song. 

Mocking-bird, 
The  music,  the  music  of  song. 


IN   ARCADY. 


I  seem  to  hear  a  distant  sound, 

The  echo  of  a  martial  tread, 
A  muffled  working  underground, 

An  angry  movement  overhead; 
The  air  is  full  of  sullen  fears, 

A  ribald  shout,  a  bitter  cry; 
Their  echoes  hardly  reach  the  ears 

Of  me  who  live  in  Arcady. 


I  read  the  once  familiar  names 
Of  Federation  and  of  League; 

Again  the  politician  frames 

His  privy  counsel  and  intrigue; 
57 


58  IN  ARCADY. 

I  once  believed  they  could  convulse 
The  globe  and  shape  its  destiny; 

But  now  they  hardly  stir  the  pulse 
Of  me  who  live  in  Arcady. 


The  jarring  world  is  sick  with  doubt, 

The  present  fears  futurity ; 
Discord  within  and  foes  without, 

And  jealous  insecurity. 
The  hidden  stab,  the  fatal  shriek, 

The  bloody  blade  of  treachery, 
Thank  God,  can  never  blanch  the  cheek 

Of  me  who  live  in  Arcady. 


The  armies  muster  by  the  strait, 
The  foemen  glare  across  the  sea. 

Beside  their  guns  the  gunners  wait 
The  word  that  sets  destruction  free. 


IN  ARCADY.  59 

In  grim  display  upon  the  deep 
A  nation's  war-dogs  watching  He; 

Let  slip — ye  cannot  break  the  sleep 
Of  me  who  live  in  Arcady. 


Pale  dweller  by  the  city's  gates, 

By  daily  fret  and  struggle  worn, 
Go,  herd  thee  with  thy  trivial  mates. 

And  let  me  watch  the  growing  corn. 
Go,  cast  abroad  thy  dreary  jest, 

On  Nature's  bosom  let  me  lie; 
Can  ne'er  be  thine  the  quiet  rest 

Of  me  who  live  in  Arcady. 


While  genius  charms  a  gaping  town. 
Be  mine  the  task  to  turn  the  sod; 

Let  others  court  the  jade  Renown, 
I  trace  in  Nature  Nature's  God. 


6o  IN  ARCADY. 

Laugh,  scoffer,  till  the  bitter  close 
Of  life  reveal  its  vanity; 

Thou  canst  not  know  the  calm  repose 
Of  me  who  live  in  Arcady. 


With  grateful  heart  I  bless  the  day 

I  grew  aweary  of  the  strife, 
Turned  from  the  wrangling  crowd  away 

And  sought  a  simpler,  clearer  life. 
Here  in  seclusion  let  me  dwell. 

Here  well  contented  let  me  die; 
Life  has  no  sweeter  tale  to  tell 

To  me  who  live  in  Arcady. 


THE    LONE   STAR   OF   TEXAS. 


Star  of  the  State  am  I, 
Liberty's  token; 

Gold,  in  an  azure  sky, 
Shining  unbroken. 


Star  Hke  the  heart  of  man, 
Woman's  defender; 

First  in  the  battle's  van 
Scorning  surrender. 


When  on  the  tented  field 

Patriots  muster, 
Full  on  the  hero's  shield 

Glitters  my  lustre. 
6i 


62  THE  LONE   STAR   OF   TEXAS. 

Still  in  the  herder's  shed 
Told  is  the  story 

How  I  my  children  led 
Onward  to  glory. 

Born  in  a  bitter  hour, 
Offspring  of  sorrow; 

Mighty  the  tyrant's  power, 
Gloomy  the  morrow. 

Frail  then  and  weak  my  light, 
Hardly  a  shimmer; 

Few  to  defend  the  right, 
Hope  daily  dimmer. 

Yet  when  the  tyrant  fast 
Fettered  would  bind  me, 

Proudly  I  rose  and  cast 
Bondage  behind  me; 


THE  LONE  STAR   OF   TEXAS.  63 

Cried  to  my  sisters  all, 

Liberty's  daughters, 
Straightway  they  heard  my  call, 

Sped  o'er  the  waters; 


Swift  in  my  hour  of  need 

Hasting  to  aid  me 
Came,  when  a  bastard  breed 

Would  have  betrayed  me. 


Firm  at  my  side  they  stood. 

Striking  together; 
Blood  of  the  bond  of  blood 

Tightened  the  tether. 

Life  that  for  others'  sake 

Freely  is  given 
Link  of  the  soul  doth  make 

Hard  to  be  riven: 


64  .  THE  LONE   STAR   OF   TEXAS. 

Death,  from  the  clasping  hand 

Not  to  be  parted, 
Knits  with  a  sacred  band 

All  the  true-hearted.  . 

Foiled  see  the  foe  depart. 
Tyrant  and  craven; 

Fear  on  the  felon's  heart 
Deeply  was  graven. 

Shone  then  my  glory  bright, 
Brilliantly  blazing; 

Five-pointed  star  of  light. 
Despots  amazing. 

Earth  saw  me  spuming  thrall, 
Nations  approved  me; 

Chiefest  and  best  of  all. 
Liberty  loved  me. 


THE  LONE   STAR   OF   TEXAS.  65 

Fierce  though  my  youth  and  wild, 

Men  could  not  mould  me; 
Yet  was  I  Freedom's  child, 

Chains  could  not  hold  me. 


Scoffing  at  human  law. 
Counsel  misprizing, 

Scarce  holding  God  in  awe, 
Discord  devising. 

Earning  an  evil  name, 
Obloquy's  byword; 

Reckless  and  hard  to  tame. 
Wanton  and  wayward. 

Yet,  when  the  trial's  hour 
Came  for  the  nation. 

Fitly  I  proved  my  power. 
Made  my  oblation: 


66  THE  LONE    STAR   OF   TEXAS. 

Gave  of  my  noblest  sons, 
Greatly  deserving; 

Up  to  the  belching  guns 
Marching  unswerving: 

Winning  in  lands  afar, 
Foemen  defying, 

Fame  for  the  Lonely  Star, 
Honour  undying. 

Saddest  of  strife  was  then 
Brother  with  brother; 

Warfare  of  kindred  men. 
Sons  of  one  mother. 


Fain  had  I  held  aloof, 

Issue  divining; 
Yet  in  the  day  of  proof 

Clear  was  my  shining: 


THE  LONE   STAR   OF    TEXAS.  67 

Over  the  plains  of  war, 

Smoking  and  gory, 
Glittered  the  Lonely  Star, 

Pointing  to  glory. 


Rage  now  and  passion  past, 
Bloodshed  forgiven. 

Calmly  my  light  at  last 
Shines  in  high  heaven. 

Shines  on  the  yellow  sands. 
Gleams  on  the  river; 

Shines  on  the  fertile  lands, 
Gift  of  the  Giver: 


Shines  for  a  promise  true 
Standing  for  ever; 

Never  from  field  of  blue 
Shall  that  Star  sever. 


68  THE  LONE   STAR   OF   TEXAS. 

Star  of  the  State  am  I, 

Liberty's  token; 
Gold,  in  an  azure  sky 

Shining  unbroken. 


AT   THE    MEET. 


Good  morning,  the  weather  is  fine, 
And  pray  don't  forget  you're  to  dine 
At  the  Manor  to-night,  for  my  father  is  quite 
Determined  to  drown  you  in  wine, 

You  know, 
Determined  to  drown  you  in  wine. 


Yes,  the  sorrel's  the  better  to  stay: 
O,  I  wish  I  could  hear  "  Gone  away!  " 
For  this  fidgetty  filly  is  really  so  silly, 

Keeps  wanting  to  have  her  own  way, 

You  know, 
Keeps  wanting  to  have  her  own  way. 
69 


70  AT   THE  MEET 

O,  really,  you  shouldn't  say  that! 
Do  look  at  the  man  in  the  hat; 
The  queerest  of  creatures,  it's  just  like  a  preacher's, 
And  a  shockingly  bad  one  at  that, 

You  know, 
A  shockingly  bad  one  at  that. 

Too  bad  of  you — quite  in  the  dark ; 
And  of  course  it  was  merely  a  lark; 
But  really,  poor  fellow,  he  looks  with  that  yellow 
Rose  fit  for  a  ride  in  the  Park, 

You  know, 
Quite  fit  for  a  ride  in  the  Park. 

Who's  that?  why,  it's  Reggie  Malone! 
How  enormously  slender  he's  grown! 
I  know  he's  a  nailer,  but  hard  on  his  tailor. 
For  he's  close  upon  seventeen  stone, 

You  know. 
Very  close  upon  seventeen  stone. 


AT   THE  MEET.  71 

O,  look,  there's  the  darHng  old  squire, 
I  call  him  the  pride  of  the  shire; 
Can't  be  true  that  he  drinks — though  I  fancy  he  thinks 
That  foxes  are  only  for  hire, 

You  know, 
That  foxes  are  only  for  hire. 

O,  no,  I  don't  mean  he's  insane; 
But  only  so  sweetly  humane; 
And  he  fancies — keep  still! — that  if  we  don't  kill. 
The  fox  can  be  hunted  again, 

You  know. 
The  fox  can  be  hunted  again. 

O,  really,  how  funny  you  are! 
And  I  used  to  be  told  by  papa 
You  cared  nothing  for  joking  and  always  were  smoking 
A  horrid  Havana  cigar. 

You  know, 
Tremendous  Havana  cigar. 


72  AT    THE  MEET. 

O,  surely,  don't  let  me  detain 
You  one  moment — it's  only  my  rein; 
The  frolicsome  creature,  I  never  can  teach  her 
To  leave  off  that  trick  with  her  mane, 

You  know, 
That  troublesome  trick  with  her  mane. 


O,  dear,  what  a  look  in  his  eye; 
How  coldly  he  bade  me  good-by; 
It's  more  than  provoking,  I  only  was  joking. 
And  now  I  am  ready  to  cry, 

I  know, 
I  feel  I  am  going  to  cry. 

How  lucky  I  put  on  a  veil; 
I've  a  cold — did  you  think  I  looked  pale? 
So  sweet  of  you,  dearest — yes,  surely  the  queerest 
Old  fellow,  and  slow  as  a  snail, 

You  know. 
Poor  fellow,  as  slow  as  a  snail. 


AT    THE  MEET.  73 

O,  dear,  he's  not  going  to  come  back! 
There  he  is  reining  up  by  the  hack 
Of  that  horrible  creature,  who  hasn't  a  feature 
That's  decent  and  sits  like  a  sack, 

You  know, 
She  really  does  sit  like  a  sack. 

O,  how  I  should  Hke  to  go  home! 
Yes,  my  filly  gets  covered  with  foam 
Very  quickly  from  fretting;  I  fear  she  is  getting 
Quite  tired  of  this  sticky  old  loam, 

You  know, 
So  tired  of  this  sticky  old  loam. 

To  think  I  should  be  such  a  fool! 
He  was  always  so  quiet  and  cool; 
Stand  steady,  young  filly! — I'm  really  as  silly 
As  if  I  were  just  out  of  school, 

You  know, 
As  if  I  were  just  out  of  school. 


74  AT   THE  MEET. 

It  is  true  that  I  said  he  was  slow; 
But  I  never  did  mean  it,  and — O, 
I'm  really  too  stupid — I  wish  that  Dan  Cupid 
Would  lend  me  his  arrow  and  bow, 

You  know, 
Would  lend  me  his  arrow  and  bow. 


I  think  he's  got  hold  of  her  rein: 
But  I  daren't  look  that  way  again; 
Good  morning — he's  chaffing — no,  thank  you — and 
laughing — 
O,  God,  it  will  drive  me  insane! 

I  know, 
I  know  it  will  drive  me  insane. 

At  last!    There's  a  cry  in  the  gorse! 
That's  Whimperer — steady,  sweet  horse; 
Ah,  me!  they  are  finding!    What,  tears?    O,  they're 
blinding 
Me,  yet  I  must  gallop  perforce, 


AT   THE  MEET.  75 


You  know, 
O,  yes,  I  must  gallop  perforce. 


Go,  follow  the  fools  in  their  track; 
Fool  yourself,  wretched  creature,  alack! 
O,  it's  you?  pray  don't  trouble — with  a  snaffle?  yes, 
double — 
O,  I  thought  you  would  never  come  back. 

You  know, 
I  thought  you  would  never  come  back. 


Yes.  .  .  .    Yes.  ...     O,  please  don't!    Gone 

away? 
O,  we'll  all  get  some  hunting  to-day! 
Look,    look    where    he's    stealing    off    yonder, — I'm 
feeling 
As  happy  as  flowers  in  May, 

You  know. 
As  happy  as  flowers  in  May. 


76  AT   THE  MEET. 

What,  a  lead?    O,  dear,  no,  did  you  think 
I  should  funk  any  fences,  or  shrink 
And  show  the  white  feather?     We'll  take  them  to- 
gether, 
Nor  swerve  at  the  cliflf's  very  brink. 

With  you, 
I'd  leap  at  the  grave's  very  brink. 


O  sweetheart,  I'm  glad  that  I  came! 
But  you  mustn't  do  that  all  the  same: 
Now,  filly!  we're  over!     My  hero,  my  lover, 
My  darling,  my  heart  is  a  flame. 

Do  you  know? 
My  heart,  ah,  my  heart  is  a  flame! 

Tally-ho! 


EPODE. 


Come,  for  the  trembling  moon 

Is  waiting  for  words  of  love: 
Come,  for  the  night  has  strewn 

Her  glittering  robe  above : 
With  a  shuddering  beat  of  his  saflfron  wing 

The  twilight  hour  has  passed: 
The  night-jar  sobbed  at  his  vanishing, 

O,  come,  my  love,  at  last. 


The  masterful  day  is  slain, 

Slain  by  Selene's  dart; 
The  west  ran  red  with  the  stain 

Of  blood  from  his  crimson  heart. 

77 


78  EPODE. 

He  fell  at  the  edge  of  the  cypress  wood, 

Sacred  to  pure  Bendis; 
And  over  the  place  the  virgin  stood, 

Delian  Artemis. 

Daintily,  stepping  soft, 

Poising  the  crystal  sphere. 
Queen  of  the  night  came  forth 

To  bathe  in  the  heavenly  mere. 
She  slipped  from  the  edge  of  the  white  cloud-wreath, 

Fleeced  like  the  snow-bird's  nest; 
The  stars  grew  pale  and  withheld  their  breath 

At  the  sight  of  her  virgin  breast. 

The  white  cloud-pack  doth  go 

Before  her  face  on  high; 
It  gleams  like  a  phantom  floe, 

A  glacier  of  the  sky. 
The  black  night  shows  in  chequered  rifts 

Between  the  icy  mass: 
The  moon  behind  them  slowly  drifts 

Across  the  dark  crevasse. 


EPODE.  79 

The  virgin  queen  doth  hold 

Tribunal  in  the  sky; 
Stars  have  been  overbold 

And  punishment  is  nigh. 
Three  mighty  planets  her  defend, 

Uranus,  Venus,  Mars; 
Behind  the  cloud-barred  grating  penned, 

Shiver  the  guilty  stars. 

Then  come,  while  the  black-winged  night 

Is  sweeping  across  the  sky; 
Come,  ere  the  archer  smite, 

Come,  ere  the  rapture  die. 
The  faint  sweet  tale  of  the  amorous  gale 

Is  passing  from  tree  to  tree; 
'Tis  love's  own  hour — to  the  lover's  bower, 

O,  come,  my  love,  with  me! 


DEAR   LITTLE   FRIEND. 


Dear  little  friend,  across  the  parting  years 
I  see  thee  standing,  while  imperious  tears 
Rose  in  thine  eyes,  and,  passed  beyond  recall, 
Welled  with  thy  troubled  bosom's  rise  and  fall; 
I  see  thee  yet,  the  trembling  hand  that  pressed 
In  quick  confusion  on  the  beating  breast; 
The  quivering  mouth  that  from  an  aching  heart 
Bore  the  despairing  message — "  We  must  part !  " 
Dear  little  friend. 


Dear  little  friend,  I  see  the  flushing  cheek 
That  limned  the  tenderness  thou  wouldst  not  speak ; 
I  see  that  noble  struggle  to  conceal 
The  feeling  which  the  heart  would  fain  reveal; 
80 


DEAR  LITTLE  FRIEND.  8l 

I  see  the  hands  that,  clasped  in  swift  embrace, 
Screened  for  a  moment  half  thy  glowing  face; 
I  see  the  arms  once  emptied  of  their  joys, 
Flung  forth  abandoned  to  a  reckless  poise, 
Dear  little  friend. 


Dear  little  friend,  I  see  the  look  that  told 
The  secret  which  'twere  folly  to  unfold; 
I  read  the  thoughts  that  strove  for  utterance; 
I  see  the  tender,  timid,  pleading  glance; 
I  see  the  lips  that  whispered,  "  Go  away;  '* 
I  see  the  eyes  that  mutely  bade  me  stay ; 
I  see  the  gaze,  defenceless,  yearning,  fond; 
I  see,  alas!  the  fearsome  gulf  beyond — 
Dear  little  friend. 

Dear  little  friend,  I  know  the  tender  tone 
That  rises  artlessly  for  one  alone; 
I  know  the  passion  that  illumes  the  eyes, 
The  voice  that  says,  "  How  foolish  to  be  wise; " 
6 


82  DEAR  LITTLE  FRIEND. 

I  know  the  fearful  struggle  to  be  true ; 
I  know  the  thoughts  that  tear  the  heart  in  two; 
I  know  the  yielding  moment,  past  recall; 
I  know  the  hour — ah  me,  I  know  it  all, 
Dear  little  friend. 

Dear  little  friend,  so  loving  and  so  leal, 
I  bow  before  thy  purity's  appeal; 
Devotion  absolute,  unquestioning, 
Robs  love  of  passion,  passion  of  its  sting. 
I  feel  the  love  we  trembled  to  confess 
Was  sent  in  mercy,  not  to  harm,  but  bless; 
That  love,  dear  heart,  if  we  can  keep  it  pure, 
Age  cannot  ravish,  ever  shall  endure, 
Dear  little  friend. 

Dear  little  friend,  that  throb  of  self-disdain 
That  follows  on  assuaged  passion's  pain 
We  do  not  know;  our  friendship  still  shall  be 
Right  in  its  blazon,  quartered  loyally. 


DEAR  LITTLE  FRIEND.  83 

Never  to  us  shall  passionate  consent 
Teach  in  sad  bitterness  the  word  "  Repent!  " 
Our  lives  are  sundered,  incomplete,  but  yet 
Ours  is  a  love  unmingled  with  regret. 
Dear  little  friend. 


TO   THE   PECOS   VALLEY. 


Truly  the  sun  this  place 

Loves  with  a  changeless  love; 

Blessed  by  his  unveiled  face 
Favoured  the  rest  above. 


Heat  benignant  and  light 
Bounteous  pouring  down ; 

Shafts  from  his  quiver  bright, 
Gleams  from  his  jewelled  crown. 


Witching  with  peerless  grace, 
Wooing  with  matchless  art; 

Prince  of  immortal  race 
Winning  the  valley's  heart. 
84 


TO    THE  PECOS    VALLEY.  85 

Humbly  the  vale  of  peace 

Love  of  her  lord  receives: 
Yields  with  a  swift  increase 

Burden  of  autumn  sheaves. 


Jubilant,  calls  to  man 

Gifts  of  the  God  to  share; 

Pleasures  Arcadian 

Surely  await  him  there. 

See,  where  the  creek  and  branch 
Traverse  the  fertile  land, 

Hamlet,  steading,  and  ranch 
Witness  his  eager  hand. 

Forth  at  the  master's  call 
Issues  the  life  of  earth — 

Water,  the  lord  of  all, 

Victor  of  drought  and  dearth. 


86  TO   THE  PECOS   VALLEY. 

Aqueduct,  weir  and  sluice, 
Conduit  and  dam  appear, 

Shaping  to  human  use 
Currents  of  water  clear. 


Checking  with  massy  pier 
Force  that  unbridled  might 

Labour  of  many  a  year 
Waste  in  a  single  night. 

Rivulet,  runnel,  and  rill 
Follow  the  guiding  hand, 

Channel  and  stream  fulfil 
Patiently  man's  command. 

Moving  with  tranquil  tread, 
Slipping  with  silent  stream. 

Life  to  the  seeming  dead 
Bringing  with  silver  gleam. 


TO    THE  PECOS    VALLEY.  87 

Lo,  how  the  god's  embrace 

Quickens  the  prairie's  breast! 
Smiling  she  Hfts  her  face. 

Servant  of  his  behest. 


Gold  of  her  daughter  fair, 
Tassel  and  nodding  plume. 

Gives,  and  the  wafting  air 

Fills  with  the  flower's  perfume. 

Garden,  orchard,  and  wood. 
Tilth  on  the  prairie  spread; 

Taming  its  wilder  mood. 
Guiding  its  wayward  tread. 

Soft  from  the  bush  is  heard 

Musical  call  of  dove; 
Carol  of  mocking-bird 

Rings  through  the  poplar  grove. 


88  TO    THE  PECOS    VALLEY. 

Swift  through  the  standing  corn 
Scurries  the  startled  quail: 

Hark,  how  the  gray  owl's  horn 
Biddeth  the  evening  hail! 

Slowly  the  sun  descends, 
Veiling  his  glorious  beam; 

Sweetly  the  moonlight  lends 
Glamour  to  bush  and  stream. 


Sun  and  Water  and  Earth, 
Earth  and  Water  and  Sun, 

This  have  ye  brought  to  birth, 
Magical  three  in  one ! 


SWEET   EMMA   MORELAND. 


Sweet  Emma  Moreland,  if  indeed 
A  word  of  mine  can  reach  thee  still, 

Dost  thou  recall  the  vow  I  made 
The  day  we  parted  by  the  hill? 


Dost  thou  remember  how  I  swore, 
The  day  we  met  on  yonder  way, 

"  Sweet  Emma  Moreland,  love  no  more 
Can  touch  the  heart  of  Edward  Gray  "? 


Ah,  who  can  tell  what  things  he  saith 
By  bitter  grief  and  woe  unmanned? 

Those  solemn  words  in  perfect  faith 
I  spoke,  but  did  not  understand. 


go  SWEET  EMMA  MORELAND. 

For  I  was  little  but  a  lad, 

A  lad  who  thought  the  world  his  own, 
I  deemed  the  present  all  I  had, 

But  now  I  prize  the  past  alone. 


My  life  was  hardly  then  begun, 
The  future  held  me  in  its  sway, 

Since  then,  sweet  Emma,  more  than  one 
Has  touched  the  heart  of  Edward  Gray. 

Man's  heart  is  like  a  flowing  stream. 
Beside  whose  banks  the  virgins  play; 

Beware,  sweet  maid,  nor  venture  in, 
'Twill  surely  bear  thy  peace  away. 

Man's  heart  is  like  a  glowing  fire. 
Before  whose  blaze  the  virgins  lie; 

Beware,  sweet  maid,  that  cheering  flame 
Will  slay  thee  if  thou  come  too  nigh. 


SWEET  EMMA    MORELAND.  91 

Man's  heart  is  like  the  gleaming  ice 
Upon  whose  face  the  virgins  skim ; 

Beware,  sweet  maid,  'twill  surely  break! 
God  help  thee  if  thou  canst  not  swim! 


Man's  heart  is  like  the  golden  pall 
That  cloaks — but,  similes,  avaunt! 

Sweet  Emma  Moreland,  after  all, 

Man's  heart  is  what  the  virgins  want. 


Ah,  gentle  lady,  though  I  wrong 
Thy  sweet  complaisance  by  my  line. 

If  meant  in  earnest  is  my  song, 
Or  jest,  thou  only  canst  divine. 


THE   EXILE'S   MESSAGE. 
June  22,  1897. 

A  voice  across  a  waste*of  land, 

A  cry  across  the  sea, 
From  one  who  still,  dear  country,  stands 

Most  loyally  by  thee: 
A  heart  that  beats  for  England, 

A  soul  that  feels  the  sod 
Of  that  dear  island  still  hath  been 

Most  cherished  of  God: 

0  England,  England,  hear  that  voice, 
England,  attend  that  cry; 

1  bid  thee  from  my  heart,  Rejoice! 
And,  mightier  yet  than  I, 

My  soul  cries  out  for  England, 

Let  nothing  come  between 
Our  love  for  thee,  dear  country. 

Our  love  for  thee,  dear  Queen. 
92 


THE  EXILE'S  MESSAGE.  93 

Then,  England,  hear  my  message, 

Read  thou  my  words  aright — 
My  Maker,  guide  my  stuttering  Hps 

And  fill  my  voice  with  might — 
Be  still  my  cry  to  England, 

As  it  hath  ever  been. 
Ours  is  the  land,  by  thee  we  stand. 

And  England,  Engla^id,  England,  love  the  Queen. 

Ah  me,  thy  people  suffered  long 

Then,  when  the  meanest  thing 
That  England,  wretched  England,  owned 

Was  named  when  named  a  king. 
Then  princes  were  but  tyrants, 

A  king  was  but  a  knave, 
From  knavish  royal  tyranny 

Sole  refuge  was  the  grave. 
Was  laid  upon  thy  humbler  sons, 

O  England,  in  that  hour. 
The  infamy  of  poverty. 

The  infamy  of  power. 


94  THE  EXILE'S  MESSAGE. 

Then  blue  blood  stood  for  nobleness, 

And  lowly  birth  disgrace, 
Then  haughty  baron  bravely  slashed 

His  servant  in  the  face. 
Now,  England,  hear  my  message: 

By  that  time's  memory, 
By  every  drop  of  English  blood 

That  fell  through  tyranny, 
Be  this  my  cry  to  England 

As  it  hath  ever  been, 
Ours  is  the  land,  by  thee  we  stand, 

And  England,  England,  England,  love  the  Queen. 

Look  out  upon  the  nations: 

Say,  Briton,  on  this  earth 
Is  there  a  land  like  English  land, 

The  country  of  thy  birth? 
Is  there  another  country 

Where  every  man  is  free, 
A  land  that  truly  can  be  called 

The  land  of  liberty? 


THE  EXILE'S  MESSAGE.  95 

Then,  Briton,  by  thy  birthright, 

As  thou  dost  fear  thy  God, 
I  charge  thee  stand  by  our  dear  land. 

By  our  beloved  sod. 
I  charge  thee  love  thy  country  well. 

And  with  a  love  as  keen 
As  that  thou  bearest  to  thy  land, 

I  charge  thee  love  the  Queen. 

Her  heart  has  beat  for  England; 

In  England's  joy  and  woe 
England's  dear  Queen  hath  ever  been 

Partaker  hitherto. 
Still  thus,  God  knows,  it  shall  be. 

Still  shall  that  Woman's  heart 
Until  its  pulses  stir  no  more 

Right  nobly  do  its  part. 
God  save  the  Queen  of  England! 

God  bless  her  too,  we  pray: 
God  save  and  bless  abundantly 

Our  precious  Queen  this  day: 


96  THE  EXILE'S  MESSAGE. 

Victoria!  Victoria! 

O  England,  shout  again! 
Let  every  nation  hear  thy  cry 

And  echo  back  again 
That  loyal  shout  of  England, 

And  be  it  nobly  seen 
That  English  hearts  are  everywhere 

And  nothing  stands  between 
Our  love  for  dear  old  England, 

Our  love  for  England's  Queen. 


Three  thousand  miles  of  water, 

Two  thousand  miles  of  land 
Are  stretched  between  me  and  the  place 

Where  I  would  love  to  stand. 
I  cannot  touch  thee,  England, 

I  cannot  grasp  the  hand 
Of  that  dear  faithful  English  friend 

I  left  on  England's  strand. 


THE  EXILE'S  MESSAGE.  97 

But  let  me  reach  thee,  England, 

With  all  my  spirit's  voice; 
O,  let  it  be  a  voice  of  power 

To  bid  thy  sons  rejoice. 
From  end  to  end  let  England 

Reecho  loud  my  cry, 
And  England's  maids  and  England's  men 

One-souled,  one-voiced,  reply: 
"  We  hear  thy  cry,  poor  exile. 

We  hearken  to  thy  voice  ; 
Across  that  waste  of  sea  and  land 

Rings  clear  thy  zvord,  Rejoice  ! 
We  do  rejoice  for  England ; 

Our  cry  this  day  hath  bee?i 
Ours  is  the  land,  by  thee  we  stand, 

And  Eyigland,    England,    England,    loves    the 
Queen.'" 


VICTORIA. 

June  22,  1897. 

This  is  a  day  of  praise. 

Of  prayer  and  humble  thanksgiving  to  God, 
Who  throughout  many  days 

Upholding  her  whose  feet  have  ever  trod 
In  ways  of  righteousness, 

Doth  still  preserve  the  guardian  of  the  sod 
That  English  people  bless. 

This  is  a  day  of  jubilation;  sent 

From  each  and  every  part 
Of  England's  realm,  her  delegates  present 

The  homage  of  the  heart; 
The  mighty  heart  of  that  great  English  race, 

Where  freedom  had  its  birth, 
To  her  who  rightly  holds  the  highest  place 

Among  the  lords  of  earth. 
98 


VICTORIA.  99 

This  is  a  day  of  pageantry.     In  state 

From  royal  palace  hall 
Pass  on  through  lines  of  citizens  elate 

To  thy  grey  dome,  Saint  Paul, 
The  noblest  retinue  that  earth  can  give, 

The  noblest  queen  of  men, 
Cheered  by  the  nation's  noblest  zry:  "  Long  live 

Victoria! "     Amen. 

Praise,  prayer,  and  loyal  jubilation,  all 

This  pomp  of  pageantry, 
Striking  the  chord  of  memory,  recall 

Another  day  gone  by. 
These  shouts  of  joy,  these  cries  of  fealty. 

The  nation's  loyal  tune 
Bring  back  to  our  unswerving  lealty 

Another  mom  in  June. 
These  scenes  majestic  to  the  memory  tell 

A  yet  more  solemn  scene, 
When  on  her  knees  before  her  Maker  fell 

A  slender,  girlish  queen, 


lOO  VICTORIA. 

And  vowed  to  rule  in  righteousness  and  love, 

In  justice  and  in  truth, 
Imploring  humbly  counsel  from  above, 

God's  guidance  for  her  youth. 

Queen  of  the  English  folk!     Dost  thou  recall 

Thy  life's  momentous  hour, 
When  thou  receivedst  'neath  a  golden  pall 

The  emblems  of  thy  power? 
His  uncrowned  queen  Saint  Peter's  abbot  faced, 

And  on  the  burnished  coil 
Of  thy  fair  head  and  slender  fingers  traced 

With  consecrated  oil 
The  Holy  Rood  by  Christians  adored 

From  the  ampulla's  brim. 
In  sign  thou  wast  thy  people's  sovran  lord, 

But  servant  still  of  Him 
Whose  Cross  was  laid  upon  thy  head  and  hands 

Before  thou  tookst  the  crown, 
To  join  thee  to  Him  with  eternal  bands 

And  mark  thee  for  His  own. 


VICTORIA.  10 

In  sign  thou  shouldst  thy  people  rule  in  love, 

In  peace  and  amity, 
Was  given  thee  the  sceptre  with  the  Dove, 

The  Rod  of  Equity. 
In  sign  thou  shouldst  the  law  of  Christ  fulfil. 

Count  earthly  gain  as  loss, 
Thy  royal  sceptre,  Empress  Queen,  is  still 

The  sceptre  with  the  Cross. 

Before  the  blessed  Edward's  circlet  pressed 

Upon  thy  youthful  brow. 
That  diadem  the  Church's  prelate  blessed, 

In  sign  that  even  thou 
Wast  bound  as  queen  to  keep  in  loyalty 

The  solemn  word  which  saith 
The  Sovereigns  of  England's  realm  must  be 

Defenders  of  the  Faith. 

Recall,  great  Queen,  the  promise  given  there. 

Thy  Coronation  Oath; 
The  words  with  which  thou  solemnly  didst  swear 

To  keep  thy  royal  troth; 


VICTORIA. 

"  I  will  protect  the  Church,  the  Laws  maintain, 

Resolved  evermore 
In  Justice,  Mercy,  and  in  Love  to  reign: 

The  things  I  here  before 
Did  promise,  I  will  now  perform  and  keep, 

So  help  me  God."     That  vow 
Was  heard  by  One  whose  eye  doth  never  sleep, 

And  watcheth  o'er  thee  now. 

Victoria  Regina,  thou  hast  been 

Just  steward  of  thy  folk; 
Thy  people  during  sixty  years  have  seen 

Thee  fitly  bear  the  yoke 
Thou  didst  that  day  consent  to  undertake 

As  servant  of  thy  Lord, 
When  thou  didst  promise  never  to  forsake 

Thy  people  or  thy  word. 

Queen  of  the  English  heart !     Thy  glorious  reign 

Is  drawing  near  its  close; 
Thy  life  of  mingled  happiness  and  pain, 

Of  chequered  joys  and  woes, 


VICTORIA.  103 

Mankind's  allotted  years  has  more  than  spanned, 

And  soon  must  thou,  alone, 
Unaided,  unattended,  humbly  stand 

Before  the  great  white  throne. 
At  that  dread  audit  of  thy  life  and  reign. 

Thy  stewardship's  accompt 
Is  passed  before  the  One  who  maketh  plain 

All  things,  and  answer  prompt 
Awards,  to  man's  eternal  loss  or  gain. 

This  is  no  day,  no  hour 
For  fulsome  adulation;  we  appeal 

To  that  Almighty  Power, 
The  Judge  before  whom  all  mankind  reveal 

The  secrets  of  the  heart; 
From  Whom  is  nothing  hid.  Who  surely  knows 

Our  being's  every  part. 
Naught  in  His  sight  are  all  our  earthly  shows. 

Our  times  are  in  His  hand. 
Him  we  entreat  to  make  His  judgment  clear. 

When  thou,  great  queen,  shalt  stand 
Before  that  seat,  thy  people  shall  be  near. 


104  VICTORIA. 

Petitioning  for  thee; 
Awaiting  calmly,  free  from  doubt  or  fear. 

The  answer  yet  to  be. 
As  surely  thou  hast  kept  thy  maiden  vow, 

Hast  kept  thy  royal  word, 
So  surely  shalt  thou  hear  with  tranquil  brow 

The  judgment  of  the  Lord: 
"  Well  done,  thou  faithful  servant,  enter  thou 

Into  thy  life's  reward." 


HEART    OF   THE   SEA. 


On  that  torn  peak  where  tempests  gather 
And  whip  to  gale  the  western  breeze. 

Where  winds  in  wildness  lash  to  lather 
And  foam  the  scum  of  the  wintry  seas: 


By  that  sheer  clifT  where  ever  madder 
And  madder  dance  the  eddies  urge, 

While  the  seaweed  writhes  like  a  burnished  adder 
Caught  in  the  grip  of  the  ravening  surge. 


I  clung  handfast  to  a  crevice  streaming 
With  lifted  spray  from  the  swirling  flood, 

While  over  the  cleft  the  sea-gulls  screaming 
Swept  back  and  forth  on  their  quest  of  food. 
105 


io6  HEART  OF   THE   SEA. 

Appalled  I  gazed,  and  my  spirit's  gladness 
Was  utterly  wasted  and  turned  to  naught; 

For  the  friend  I  had  loved  lay  in  tossing  madness, 
Racked  to  and  fro  like  a  thing  distraught. 

And  I  cried  aloud:  "  Can  this  wild  commotion 
Of  battering  billows  and  wrangling  waves 

Come  from  the  heart  of  the  gentle  ocean 

That  kisses  the  mouths  of  the  sea-nymphs'  caves? 

Is  this  the  sea  that  the  lightest  feather 

Undrenched  could  bear  on  its  buoyant  brine, 

While  the  glittering  sunbeam's  golden  tether 
Linked  wave  and  sky  in  a  yoke  divine? 


Is  this  the  sea  of  my  life's  reliance, 
The  sea  that  cradled  my  infant  sleep, 

This  wild  grey  waste  that  in  mad  defiance 
Is  hoarsely  calling  from  deep  to  deep? 


HEART  OF   THE   SEA.  107 

Sea,  I  have  slept  while  thy  tuneful  treble, 
Of  lullabies  sweetest,  hath  charmed  my  ear. 

And  the  song  of  the  wave  to  the  rolling  pebble 
Was  ever  the  song  that  I  loved  to  hear. 

Thou  wast  to  me  like  a  boy's  defender, 
A  wooer  of  maids  and  a  man's  delight. 

None  spoke  with  a  voice  so  sweet,  so  tender. 
None  looked  on  me  with  a  smile  so  bright. 

But  now  thou  art  changed,  and  my  faith  is  shaken, 
Thou  hast  robbed  me,  Sea,  of  my  spirit's  rest, 

I  trusted  in  thee,  and  thou  hast  taken 
From  me  the  treasure  I  loved  the  best. 


Thou  hast  played  me  false,  and  my  heart  is  broken; 

Thou  hast  played  me  false,  and  thou  dost  not  care; 
Ah,  how  can  ever  a  word  be  spoken 

To  match  the  sfrief  thou  hast  made  me  bear? 


io8  HEART  OF   THE  SEA. 

I  know  thee  now  for  a  cruel  preacher 
Of  creed  inhuman  with  careless  scoff; 

More  vile  art  thou  than  the  meanest  creature 
That  crawls  in  the  slime  of  thy  hollow  trough. 

I  hate  thee,  Sea,  with  an  unforgiving, 
Defiant  hate;  thou,  of  hell's  decree 

Consenting  organ,  hast  made  my  living 
More  chill  than  death;  lo,  I  curse  thee,  Sea!  " 

With  frantic  gesture  defiance  hurling. 

In  vain  rebellion  at  mastery, 
I  flung  my  curse  at  the  billow's  curling 

Crest  as  it  carelessly  passed  me  by. 

Ah,  fool,  to  think  that  the  god  immortal 
Who  orders  ocean  and  sways  the  sea, 

Can  reck  one  whit  that  a  gloomy  portal 
Has  closed  betwixt  thy  love  and  thee. 


HEART  OF   THE   SEA.  109 

Ah,  fool,  to  think  that  the  bitter  trouble 
That  darkens  daylight  and  maddens  dreams, 

Weighs  more  with  him  than  the  lightest  bubble 
That  on  his  breast  for  an  instant  gleams 

And  then  is  gone;  can  the  piteous  wailing 

Of  childless  parent  and  orphan  child 
Seem  aught  to  a  god  but  the  senseless  railing 

Of  dolts  that  will  not  be  reconciled? 


Away,  fond  wretch,  for  thy  blatant  shouting 
Is  food  for  jest  to  the  deathless  one 

Who  sits  enthroned  on  the  billows,  flouting 
Thy  grief  and  thee, — poor  fool,  begone! 

I  turned  away  from  the  wild  confusion 

Of  upthrown  billows  and  downdrawn  skies, 

And  bitterly  mocked  at  the  fond  delusion 
That  a  god  with  a  mortal  could  sympathize. 


no  HEART  OF    THE   SEA. 

I  turned — that  sound!     Was  I  mad,  or  waking 

To  clearer  vision  and  saner  life? 
I  seemed  to  hear  from  the  waters  breaking 

A  voice  that  called  me  to  peace  from  strife. 

Amid  the  roar  of  the  tempest  shrieking, 

The  rolling  thunder  and  levin  flame, 
A  quiet  voice  to  me  was  speaking 

Softly,  and  calling  upon  my  name. 

In  the  seething  heart  of  the  swirling  waters. 

Where  the  galling  spray  makes  the  eyesight  dim, 

Where  the  driving  spume  never  stops  or  falters 
In  whirling  race  round  the  eddy's  rim. 


A  smooth  space  lay  like  a  face  that  glistened 
With  tears — strange  sight  in  that  medley  wild! 

The  weary  years,  as  I  stooped  and  listened. 
Slipped  back,  and  I  felt  like  a  little  child. 


HEART  OF   THE   SEA.  iii 

That  sound!     'Twas  naught  but  the  faintest  whisper, 
Alore  heard  than  spoken,  that  stirred  my  soul; 

Yet  all-pervading,  and  clearer,  crisper 
Than  howling  tempest  or  thunder's  roll. 

That  sound!     It  came  from  no  hoary  Triton 
Or  shell-throned  goddess  of  sea-foam  birth ; 

The  voice  was  the  voice  of  the  lord  Poseidon, 
The  god  that  girdles  and  shakes  the  earth. 

I  bowed,  I  fell,  and  the  insurrection 

My  soul  had  compassed  was  swept  away; 

At  the  voice  of  the  god  my  heart's  defection 
Passed  as  the  mist  from  the  sun-god's  ray. 

"  Child,"  I  heard,  and  the  water's  riot 
Was  still,  and  soundless  the  shattered  waves; 

Crept  over  my  soul  an  awesome  quiet 

Like  the  hush  that  lies  on  the  place  of  graves. 


112  HEART  OF   THE   SEA. 

The  spray  hung  poised  on  the  breaking  billow, 
And  fixed  in  falling  the  comber  heard 

That  voice  of  power,  like  a  drawn-lace  pillow 
The  foam  lay  still  at  Poseidon's  word. 

"  Child  of  man  " — and  I  heard  the  calling 
Of  Nymph  and  Triton  in  grot  and  cave; 

The  earth's  dim  scales  from  my  eyes  were  falling 
And  I  saw  with  the  vision  that  poets  crave. 

"  Child  beloved  " — and  my  grief  was  over; 

My  heart  leapt  up  and  cried:  "  Rejoice!  " 
Thrilled  was  my  soul  as  the  passionate  lover 

Thrills  to  the  sound  of  his  mistress'  voice. 


"  Son  of  my  heart,  I  have  loved  thee  ever; 

Dear  to  me  was  thy  trustful  youth ; 
Dost  think  that  a  passionate  word  can  sever 

A  bond  that  is  fixed  in  eternal  truth? 


HEART  OF   THE   SEA.  1 13 

Nay,  not  unheard  was  thy  wild  complaining, 

Yet  scarce  availeth  a  mortal's  cry 
To  alter  the  currents  of  Fate's  ordaining 

Or  fashion  the  course  of  the  gods  on  high. 

Thine  is  the  past,  for  the  past  is  over; 

What  in  its  bosom  the  future  holds 
The  great  gods  know  but  do  not  discover 

Till  time  in  season  the  end  unfolds. 


Mistake  not  me  for  a  cruel  scoflfer, 
Or  tyrant  smiting  with  careless  face; 

The  gods  above  do  not  deign  to  oflfer 
Their  hearts  to  the  gaze  of  a  ribald  race 


Of  mortals  vaunting  themselves  and  deeming 
That  naught  from  their  vision  is  hid — O,  blind 

And  fools,  who  scan  but  the  outward  seeming 
Nor  dream  of  the  heavenly  shape  behind. 


114  HEART  OF    THE   SEA. 

Then  think  not  thou  that  this  wild  commotion 

Of  waters  under  and  winds  above 
Comes  from  the  heart  of  the  gentle  ocean. 

The  god  that  cherisheth  mortals'  love. 

Above,  the  winds  and  waves  are  jarring 
In  ceaseless  turmoil  and  cureless  strife; 

Below,  no  earth-born  sound  is  marring 
The  peaceful  rest  of  eternal  life. 

I  have  stretched  my  seas  for  a  shrouding  ceiling 

Above  my  palace;  a  glassy  floor 
It  seems  to  mortals,  to  them  revealing 

Somewhat,  but  from  them  concealing  more. 

While  over  that  floor  the  tempest  rages, 

And  wind  with  wind  in  fury  vies, 
Unstirred  below  through  the  countless  ages 

The  great  grey  soul  of  ocean  lies. 


HEART  OF   THE   SEA.  115 

There  quiet  reigns — for  the  struggle  frantic 
Of  blast  and  billow,  of  bond  and  free, 

Moves  not  at  all  that  breast  gigantic 
Nor  stirs  the  soul  of  the  hoary  sea. 

There  Time  no  season  knows,  no  number, 

For  twilight  soft  and  immortal  balm 
Soothe  the  soul  to  a  dreamless  slumber, 

Steeped  evermore  in  a  quenchless  calm. 

There  the  heart  of  the  Sea  is  beating 

Soft  and  low,  like  a  cradling  song. 
There  I  await  my  beloved  with  greeting 

Gentle  and  bear  in  my  arms  along 

Safe  to  the  peace  that  knows  no  breaking. 

Safe  to  the  rest  from  toil  and  care, 
Weary  souls  to  the  sleep  unwaking, 

Sleep  that  mortals  can  never  share. 


Il6  HEART  OF   THE   SEA. 

Those  whom  I  love  to  my  heart  I  gather, 

Gift  of  a  god  is  unending  rest; 
Child,  thou  art  mine — to  thy  heart's  true  father 

Come,  and  be  clasped  to  his  loving  breast." 

The  low  voice  ceased,  but  the  silence  lasted; 

That  smooth  still  space  like  a  face  serene 
Smiled  in  a  wondrous  calm  contrasted 

With  surge  and  breaker  that  raged  between. 

Smiled  and  waved — and  my  heart  was  bounding 
With  love  that  would  not  be  kept  apart; 

Down,  far  down  beyond  human  sounding 
I  dropped  to  sleep  on  the  sea-god's  heart. 


I    CALLED   TO    LOVE. 


I  called  to  Love,  and  as  I  called  he  came, 
Black-eyed  and  bold  and  naked;  and  in  shame 
I  hid  my  face  and  trembled,  but  the  boy 
Leapt  at  my  breast  and  whispered,  "  Joy  of  joy 
I  bring  thee,  sweet  one,  and  divine  delight; 
Undo  thy  bosom's  latchet,  neophyte. 
And  let  me  in."     Therewith  about  my  knees 
He  clung  and  clamoured  softly,  as  the  breeze 
That  murmurs  to  the  trailing  tamarinds. 
His  beating  wings  made  soft  and  fitful  winds 
That  carried  odours  to  me,  and  I  felt 
My  senses  waver  and  about  my  belt 
His  fingers  busy,  yet,  it  seemed,  in  play; 
A  laugh  of  conquest  echoed.     No  dismay 
Arose  to  mar  my  longing.     I  put  out 
A  trembling  hand  towards  him,  not  in  doubt, 
117 


Ii8  /  CALLED    TO  LOVE. 

But  seeking  his;  my  sensing  fingers  met — 

For  still  my  eyes  were  closed — a  bosom  wet 

As  my  own  quivering  palm,  and  felt  the  beat 

Of  lifeblood  at  his  heart.     "  O  Paraclete!  " 

I  cried  and  turned  to  flee.     "  Who  flees  is  lost!  " 

A  voice  replied.     The  saucy  urchin  tossed 

My  languid  arms  away  and  bared  my  heart. 

"  As  thou  hast  called  me,  bid  me  now  depart!  " 

He  cried,  and  laughed  again.     The  silence  held 

Until  he  broke  it.     "  Is  there  one  can  weld 

A  mail  with  power  to  turn  my  point  divine? 

The  bittersweet  of  life  is  this,  is  thine! " 

Once  more  he  laughed,  and  touched  the  echoing 

string; 
I  heard  the  arrows  in  his  quiver  ring 
And  knew  him  aiming — yet  my  eyes  were  bound 
And  fast  my  lips.     Then  with  a  rustling  sound 
Of  folding  pinions,  came  a  voice  that  said: 
"Sister,  beware;  is  thy  discernment  dead? 
Look,  look,  or  thou  art  lost!  "    A  sudden  fear 
Of  what  I  knew  not  seized  me,  and  a  tear 


/  CALLED    TO   LOVE.  ilg 

Forced  its  way  upward  from  the  virgin  well 
Of  maidenhood  unsullied:  as  it  fell 
The  philtre  lost  its  virtue  and  my  soul 
Sprang  to  my  eyes  and  broke  their  lids'  control, 
And  I  beheld  and  cried:    "  I  am  beguiled! 
Thou  art  not  Love,  thou  art  but  Fancy's  child! " 
Thereat  the  phantom  vanished,  and  I  went 
Along  the  path  in  thankless  discontent. 

I  called  to  Love,  and  as  I  called  he  came. 
But  never  paused  or  greeted;  on  his  game 
Was  all  his  mind,  yet  this  same  heedlessness 
So  well  became  his  jocund  fearlessness 
I  longed  the  more ;  a  comely  shape  that  glowed 
With  youthful  vigour;  smiling  he  bestrode 
A  fallen  woodland  terror,  from  its  side 
Plucking  the  ashen  spear  that  entry  wide 
Had  made  therein ;  the  blood  that  spirted  high 
Bedaubed  his  knee  and  stained  his  ivory  thigh. 
But  all  unnoted,  as  he  turned  his  head 
And  hearkened  to  the  forest-voices.     Dread 


20  /  CALLED    TO  LOVE. 

Of  that  wild  place  was  on  me  and  I  cried : 

"  Sweet  youth  and  master,  do  not  thou  deride 

My  cowardice,  or  mock  thy  servant's  moan : 

Great  fear  have  I  of  journeying  alone." 

At  that  he  turned — how  fair  his  face  to  see! 

It  filled  my  heart  with  rapture — "  What  to  me," 

He   answered,    "  is   thy   plight  ?       Go    seek   the 

path; 
Tempt  me  no  longer,  lest  a  dryad's  wrath 
Undo  us  both.     .     .     . 

I  hitherto  have  spilt 
No  blood  but  beasts' ;  if  henceforth  there  be  guilt, 
'Tis  not  on  me.     I  yet  am  innocent 
Of  other    .... 

Surely  I  am  cast,  and  shent 
In  either  hap.     So,  follow  where  I  lead." 
With  that  he  turned  and  sped  across  the  mead 
And  leapt  within  the  forest.     Where  he  led 
I  followed,  though  the  sere  acacias  shed 
Their  spikes  to  gash  my  feet;  at  my  spent  blood 
I  sickened  as  I  ran;  throughout  the  wood 


/  CALLED    TO  LOVE.  I2i 

I  Stumbled  weeping,  yet  I  lost  him  not, 

For  still  the  white  limbs  gleamed  ;    my  heart  was 

hot, 
And  tumult  in  my  bosom;  where  the  glade 
Divides  the  forest,  there  he  turned  and  stayed. 
He  seemed  the  lovelier  for  the  threatening  spear 
That  carried  death.     I  dared  to  venture  near 
Forspent  and  bleeding,  while  the  longing  grew 
To  clasp  him  closely  once  and  then  imbue 
The  spear-blade  with  my  heart's  blood.  At  his  scorn 
I  clean  forgot  the  torture  of  the  thorn, 
And  passed  the  spear  and  sought  to  clasp  his  hand, 
Crying,  "  O  love,  I  hardly  understand 
Thy  cruelty,  yet  as  thou  wilt,  so  do, 
For  I  am  thine."     At  that  he  roughly  threw 
My  hand  away,  replying  with  a  sneer, 
"  What  then  am  I?  "  and  poised  anew  the  spear. 
"  My  love,  dear  heart,  and  thou  art  truly  mine." 
"  Thy  love?  "  he  cried:  "  Go!     I  am  none  of  thine; 
A  goddess  woos  me."     At  that  word  I  knew 
The  one  he  was,     "  Ah,  hunter,  is  it  true? 


2  /  CALLED    TO  LOVE. 

I  know  thee  now;  betrayed  am  I  for  sure! 
Thou  art  not  Love,  but  Venus'  paramour." 
Thereon  he  would  have  slain  me,  but  I  slipped 
Beside  him  in  a  new-found  strength,  and  gripped 
The  ashen  spear-shaft;  in  my  hand  it  snapped 
And  left  him  weaponless.     He  stood  entrapped 
And  gnashed  at  me;  I  saw  his  beauty  pass 
Swift  as  the  image  from  the  shattered  glass; 
His  ivory  skin  was  leprous.     With  a  cry 
I  cast  the  spear-head  at  the  cankered  thigh 
And  fled  the  place,  nor  slackened  till  the  night 
Received  and  hid  me  from  my  fellows'  sight. 

I  called  to  Love,  and  as  I  called  he  came. 
New,  yet  familiar;  was  he  not  the  same 
That  I  had  dreamt  of?     In  his  daring  eyes 
I  saw  my  longings  mirrored ;  former  ties 
Were  broken  at  his  touch;  he  seemed  to  tread 
On  some  supernal  ether,  and  to  shed 
Celestial  fragrance  on  me;  celandine 
Was  not  more  golden  than  his  curls  divine. 


/  CALLED    TO  LOVE.  123 

His  smile  elysian — how  it  shook  my  soul! 

"  Ah,  wrong  me  not!  "  I  cried,  "  thou  art  the  goal 

Of  my  desire — O,  love  empyrean,  hail! 

Behold  thy  handmaid!  "     Passion  left  me  pale 

And  sightless,  but  I  felt  him  drawing  near; 

The  balmy  air  grew  warmer.     "  Be  of  cheer," 

He  whispered,  "  for  I  bring  thee  thy  desire." 

So,  lightly  touched  my  heart.     Devouring  fire 

Flamed  up  within  my  breast — his  fingers  burned. 

I  shrieked  and  started  back,  yet  inly  yearned 

To  clasp  those  scorching  fingers,  while  he  raised 

My  trembling  body  upward,  till  I  gazed 

Upon  his  glowing  eyes.     A  palsy  shook 

My  limbs,  and  at  the  summons  of  his  look 

I  rendered  up  myself,     "  O,  take  me,  love, 

Ideal,  yet  incarnate;  quickly  prove 

Thy  deity;  conception  most  divine, 

Am    I    not   thine?"     He  answered:    "Thou  art 

mine." 
At  that  I  swooned  within  his  arms  and  seemed 
To  let  the  years  pass  heedless,  while  I  dreamed 


124  /  CALLED    TO  LOVE. 

Seraphic  visions;  trances  of  delight 

Upheld  me  through  an  oriental  night 

Of  mirth  and  song  and  music,  till  I  heard 

A  note,  discordant,  sharp,  that  swiftly  stirred 

My  slumbered  senses,  and  the  glamour  fled. 

My  eyes  were  opened  and  delight  was  dead. 

The  dream  once  ended,  misery  and  ruth 

Became  my  portion  when  I  knew  the  truth. 

I  looked  upon  my  seraph;  he  was  foul; 

The  contact  mired  me.     With  a  fiendish  scowl, 

Reading  my  thought,   he  cried :    "  Art  thou  not 

mine? 
Lo,  I  have  sealed  thee  to  myself;  my  sign 
Is  on  thy  face,  my  votary  thou  art; 
I  know  the  inmost  secrets  of  thy  heart." 
So  saying,  would  have  seized  me,  but  I  screamed 
And  flung  him  off.     "  Debaucher!  I  had  deemed 
Thee  different — I  know  thee  truly  now; 
Lost  though  I  am,  I  can  recall  my  vow. 
To  such  as  thee  my  soul  I  never  gave; 
Thou  art  not  Love,  thou  art  but  Passion's  slave !  " 


/  CALLED    TO  LOVE.  125 

At  that  the  demon  struclc  me,  and  I  fell 
Backward  and  hung  upon  the  verge  of  hell. 

I  called  to  Love,  and  as  I  called  he  came. 

The  angel  of  the  furnace;  sacred  flame 

Lay  lambent  on  his  temples;  from  afar 

I  saw  him  coming  like  a  fiery  star 

That  bore  destruction  onward;  in  his  hand 

Blazed  the  red  outline  of  a  glowing  brand. 

The  fear  of  death  was  on  me ;  in  the  sedge 

That  overspreads  the  ooze  at  Lethe's  edge 

I  flung  myself  face  downward,  where  the  grass 

Grows  rankest,  praying  that  the  god  would  pass 

And  leave  me  scatheless — was  I  fit  to  die? 

"  Semele,  aid  me!     Let  him  not  come  nigh! " 

O,  vain  appeal!     I  felt  him  drawing  near; 

The  slim  green  rushes  shrivelled  into  sere 

And  fell  in  glowing  embers.     Terror  set 

Its  bounds  to  my  endurance.     "  Spare  me  yet, 

O,  master  of  my  heart !  "  I  cried.     "  Arise," 

He  answered,  "  in  my  hand  thy  living  lies." 


126  /  CALLED    TO  LOVE. 

Constraint  was  on  me  and  I  raised  my  head. 
His  look  was  scorching,  yet  the  terror  fled. 
I  rose  and  faced  him.     Passion  and  Desire 
Withered  and  perished  in  that  glowing  fire; 
The  flesh  revolted  yet.     My  heart  was  chill 
With  sudden  panic.     "  Master,  wilt  thou  kill 
Me  wholly?  "     "  Self  I  slay;  yet  an  thou  like 
Thou  mayst  escape;  thou  needst  not  bid  me  strike. 
Thy  choice  is  free;  the  angel  or  the  brute; 
Make  thy  election."     Terror  kept  me  mute. 
He  raised  his  hand;  I  saw  the  fiery  sword 
And  knew  my  soul  depending  on  a  word. 
"  And  must  I  look  my  last  upon  the  sun? 
Is  there  no  way  but  this?  "     He  answered:  "  None." 
"  Alas!  I  fear  that  thou  wilt  kill  me  quite!  " 
"Say,    shall    I    smite?"    he    cried.      I    answered: 

"Smite!" 
With  that  the  sword  went  through  me,  and  I  passed 
In  one  swift  agony  to  Love  at  last. 


THREE   WISHES. 


"  Grant  me  a  boon,  but  one," 
Cried  to  his  Maker  man; 

"  Lo,  where  the  graceless  Sun 
Mocks  me  since  Time  began. 


Mocks  me  from  dawn  to  eve, 
Mocks  me  anew  at  morn; 

Challenging  me  to  drive 
Courses  from  bourne  to  bourne. 


"  Fain  would  I  follow  and  chase. 
But  how  can  I  tether  a  star? 
And  he  jeers  me  with  careless  face- 
Succour  me,  Avatar! 
127 


128  THREE    WISHES. 

"  Give  me  a  courser  fleet 

As  the  whirlwind's  sightless  horse; 
Give  me  the  grim  Afreet 
That  hides  in  the  watercourse. 


Give  me  the  spirit  pale, 

The  dim  white  nymph  that  is  kissed 
By  the  fire-god  in  glowing  mail; 

Give  me  the  heart  of  the  mist. 


"  Give  me  the  Soul  of  the  Rain, 
Slave  let  it  be  of  my  skill; 
So  shall  I  never  again 

Fret,  having  had  my  will." 


Son,  thou  art  asking  much,' 
Slowly  the  god  replied: 

Fearest  thou  not  to  touch 
Things  that  are  deified? 


THREE    WISHES.  129 


Fitly  a  thing  divine 
Spirit  of  water  is; 

See  that  in  hands  of  thine 
Perish  not  sanctities* 


Yet,  that  thou  mayst  not  tire, 
Deeming  thy  striving  vain, 

Take  thou  thy  heart's  desire, 
Take  thou  the  Soul  of  the  Rain.' 


Man,  from  the  watercloud 
Taking  the  soul,  began 

Curbing  that  spirit  proud, 
Forcing  to  bless  and  ban. 


Taming  that  grim  Afreet, 
Shackling  that  giant  wild, 

Branding  with  ruthless  heat 
Waterfall's  phantom  child. 

9 


I30  THREE    WISHES. 

Binding  with  iron  bands, 
Searing  with  furnace  gleam, 

Till  with  obedient  hands 

Works  at  his  will  the  Steam. 


Turbulent  heart  subdued, 
Bondman  became  of  man; 

Fashioning  forces  crude, 
Venturing  earth  to  span. 

Daedal,  with  patient  art 

Piercing  the  mountain's  side; 

Over  the  gorge's  heart 
Stepping  with  giant  stride. 

Ever  with  tireless  feet 
Ceaselessly  passing  forth; 

Flying  from  East  to  greet 
West,  and  the  South  from  North. 


THREE    WISHES.  131 

Distancing  wind  and  tide, 

Linking  the  land  and  sea; 
Swelling  his  ruler's  pride, 

Winning  him  royal  fee. 


Loudly  the  master  laughed: 
"  Now  is  the  race  begun; 

Mocker,  my  handicraft 

Matches  thy  coursers,  sun!  '* 

Shining  Apollo  smiled 

Brightly  with  cloudless  brow; 
"  Phaethon.  self-beguiled. 

Perished,  and  such  art  thou. 


Mortal  of  restless  biiih, 

Cursed  with  the  Titan's  soul. 
Can  not  to  thee  the  earth 

Proffer  sufficing  goal? 


138  THREE    WISHES. 

"  Leave  to  the  gods  the  sky ; 
Not  to  Olympus  come 
Those  who  its  lords  defy; 
Scoffers  had  best  be  dumb." 


Swiftly  the  god  elate, 

Wrapt  in  his  robe  of  light, 

Sped  to  the  golden  gate, 
Stabled  his  coursers  bright; 

Feasted  the  starshine  through. 
Feasted  and  slept  again; 

Then  on  the  zenith  blue 
Guided  his  coursers  twain. 


Laughing  and  looking  back, 
Marking  his  rival  bold 

Urging  on  glittering  track 
Natural  force  controlled. 


THREE    WISHES.  133 

Vainly  the  panting  steam 

Strives  with  the  god  to  vie; 
Lo,  where  the  vanishing  gleam 

Fades  in  the  western  sky! 


"  Grant  me  a  boon,  but  one," 

Cried  to  his  Maker  man; 
"  Lo,  where  the  graceless  Sun 

Mocks  me  since  Time  began. 

"  Mocks  me  with  careless  face, 
Jeers  from  his  golden  car; 
Sore  is  thy  son's  disgrace, 
Succour  me,  Avatar! 

"  Give  me  the  spirit  bright 

That  leaps  from  the  thunder's  breast, 
Give  me  the  blinding  light 
That  plays  on  the  mountain's  crest. 


134  THREE    WISHES. 

"  Give  me  the  lightning's  flash, 
Soul  of  the  deadly  fire 
Born  of  the  welkin's  crash; 
Grant  me  my  heart's  desire. 

"  Give  me  the  amber's  core, 
Slave  let  it  be  of  my  skill; 
So  shall  I  nevermore 

Fret,  having  had  my  will." 

Answered  the  Titan :    "  Child, 
Bought  at  a  woful  price, 

Bitter  art  thou  and  wild, 
Fruit  of  my  sacrifice. 

"  Image  of  crumbling  clay. 

Mould  that  I  filled  with  breath; 
Still  art  thou  led  astray. 
Turning  from  life  to  death. 


THREE    WISHES.  135 

Yet,  since  I  needs  must  be 

Granter  of  thy  desire, 
Take  from  the  lightning  free, 

Mortal,  its  Soul  of  Fire." 


Man,  from  the  levin  flame 
Taking  the  soul,  began 

Spirit  of  light  to  tame. 
Forcing  to  bless  and  ban. 

Leading  in  endless  line, 
Winding  in  potent  coil, 

Soul  of  the  spark  divine 
Binding  to  earthly  toil. 

Swift,  in  a  moment's  space 
Under  the  startled  sea 

Rushing  with  peerless  pace, 
Rival  of  Mercury. 


136  THREE    WISHES. 

Stars,  by  the  mind  of  man 

Fashioned  and  brought  to  light, 

Toiled,  to  a  working  plan 
Tethered  in  ordered  might. 

Them  their  creator  elate. 
Mocking  the  son  of  Zeus, 

Driveth  in  yoke  sedate, 
Fitteth  to  daily  use. 

Crying  with  vaunting  speech 

"  Listen,  my  Avatar; 
Now  is  the  time  to  teach 

Gods  what  the  mortals  are. 


"  Phoebus  Apollo,  heed! 
Fallen  art  thou  and  cast 
Earthward,  a  saner  creed 
Vanquisheth  thee  at  last. 


THREE    WISHES.  137 

Lo,  thou  art  weighed  and  found 

Wanting  in  every  part; 
Fabric  of  myth  unsound, 

Manifest  lie  thou  art. 

Light  is  my  slave,  and  speed 

Measureless  owns  my  might; 
Phcebus,  of  thee  no  need 

Have  I  nor  of  thy  light. 

Stars  have  I  made  to  work, 

Sun,  shall  I  bow  to  thee? 
Lord  of  the  light  and  mirk 

Never  henceforth  for  me ! " 


Graceful  Apollo  swung 
Lightly  his  golden  rein; 

Glances  the  sun-god  flung 
Earthward  of  calm  disdain. 


138  THREE    WISHES. 

"  Zeus,  thy  abiding  curse 
Ever  on  earth  prevails; 
After  each  age  a  worse 
Follows  and  foully  rails. 

"  Scorning  the  gods  above, 

Deeming  themselves  supreme, 
Slighting  my  works  of  love, 
Mocking  my  kindly  beam. 

"  Mythical,  men  me  call; 

Nay,  what  is  myth  but  the  rune 
Of  the  life  that  encircleth  all. 
Echo  of  nature's  tune? 


"  Lo,  should  I  hide  my  face 

From  them  and  veil  my  light, 
Soon  were  this  boastful  race 
Lost  in  eternal  night. 


THREE    WISHES.  139 

Lo,  should  I  turn  my  spear 

On  them,  and  bend  my  bow. 
Titan,  thy  children  dear 

Perish  in  mortal  throe." 


"  Grant  me  a  boon,  but  one," 
Cried  to  his  Maker  man; 

"  Lo  where  the  envious  Sun 

Mocks  me  since  Time  began. 


Fills  me  with  deadly  fear. 
Threatens  my  works  to  mar. 

Tossing  his  glittering  spear; 
Succour  me,  Avatar! 


"  Give  me  the  pinion  light, 
Wing  of  the  bird  of  Jove; 
Give  me  the  eagle's  flight; 
So  shall  I  master  prove. 


I40  THREE    WISHES. 

"  Give  me  the  power  to  soar, 
Slave  let  it  be  of  my  skill; 
So  shall  I  nevermore 

Fret,  having  had  my  will." 

Weary  Prometheus  said: 
"  Child,  thou  canst  surely  see 

How  I  am  punished 
Daily  for  sake  of  thee. 

"  Ever  since  fire  I  stole 

Earthward  to  warm  thy  heart, 
Sorrow  hath  been  my  dole. 
Bondage  hath  been  my  part. 


"  Fast  to  the  burning  rock 

Bound  with  a  chain,  my  crime 
Was  that  I  dared  to  mock 
Order  of  Jove  sublime. 


THREE    WISHES.  141 


"  Eagle  through  pathless  air 
Hither  at  Zeus'  behest 
Cometh  to  rend  and  tear 
Daily  my  bleeding  breast. 

"  Mortal,  if  mine  the  power 
Over  the  eagle's  flight. 
Would  I  a  single  hour 

Longer  endure  my  plight? 

"  Never  can  bird  of  Jove 
Servitor  be  of  thine; 
Never  can  mortal  prove 
Master  of  flight  divine. 


"  Cease  with  the  gods  to  vie, 

Child  that  I  brought  to  birth; 
They  are  the  lords  of  sky, 
Thine  are  the  things  of  earth. 


142  THREE    WISHES. 

"  Cease  to  provoke  thy  fate, 

Cross  not  the  sun-god's  path; 
Marsyas  learnt  too  late 
Peerless  Apollo's  wrath." 

"  Knave,  with  deceitful  heart!  " 
Cried  to  his  Maker  man; 

"  Using  thy  guileful  art 
Only  to  balk  my  plan. 

"  Fool  that  I  was  to  trust 
Thee  or  revere  thy  skill; 
Better  return  to  dust. 
Titan,  than  yield  my  will. 


"  Lord  of  the  earth  am  I, 
Ocean  I  hold  in  fee; 
Why  should  I  fear  the  sky 
More  than  the  purple  sea? 


THREE    WISHES.  143 

Mine  is  the  power  to  make, 

Mine  is  the  power  to  mar; 
All  that  I  need  I  take, 

Tremble,  my  Avatar! 

Henceforth  of  thee  no  care 

Have  I  nor  of  thy  might; 
Soon  through  the  yielding  air 

Swift  shall  I  wing  my  flight!  " 


Luckless  Prometheus  heard. 
Listened  with  boding  awe; 

Felt  at  his  breast  the  bird 
Tearing  with  bill  and  claw. 

Sadly  the  Titan  said: 

"Trouble  is  still  my  part; 
Even  the  race  I  made 

Tears  at  its  maker's  heart 


144  THREE    WISHES. 

"  Me  the  Compeller's  rebuke, 
Punishment  merciless, 
Harasseth  less  than  thy  look, 
Pigmy,  of  narrowness. 

"  Selfish  is  all  thy  mind; 
Thou  for  thyself  alone 
Seest,  to  others  blind, 
Hard  is  thy  heart  as  stone. 

"  Zeus,  for  a  bitter  jest, 

Cankered  my  gifts  to  man; 
Banned  what  I  fain  had  blessed. 
Blessed  what  I  meant  to  ban. 

"  Truly  Pandora  still 

Regnant  is  here  below, 
Ordering  human  skill 
Unto  man's  overthrow." 


THREE    WISHES.  145 

Man,  to  the  eagle's  flight 

Bending  his  skill,  began 
Fashioning  pinions  light. 

Framing  the  steering  fan. 

Swift  as  the  bird  of  Jove 

Thinking  to  cleave  the  air, 
Cunning  and  sleight  to  prove, 

Craftsman  beyond  compare. 

Sprang  to  the  mountain's  brow, 

Cried  to  the  shining  sun: 
Phoebus,  behold  me  now! 

Mocker,  the  race  is  won! 


"  Master  of  flight  am  I, 

King  over  land  and  sea; 
Mythical  lord  of  sky, 

Needs  must  thou  yield  to  me!  " 


146  THREE    WISHES, 

Spake,  and  on  outspread  wing, 
Eager  his  power  to  show. 

Leapt  with  a  mighty  spring — 
Fell  on  the  plain  below. 

Lordly  Apollo  leant 

Down  from  his  golden  car; 
Rang  through  the  firmament 

Laughter  of  moon  and  star. 

"  Folly  is  never  old, 

Wisdom  is  always  stale; 
Artifex  overbold, 
Icarus  redux,  hail! " 


Vainly  the  human  race 
Strives  with  the  deities; 

Dissociating  space 

Smiles  at  their  vanities. 


RIO   PECOS,   PECOS   RIVER. 

Rio  Pecos,  Pecos  River, 
Where  the  empty  Indian  quiver. 
On  thy  rocks  with  blood  bespattered 
Cast  and  into  fragments  shattered 

By  the  frantic  blow. 
Told  the  stern,  avenging  foeman 
That  the  grim  Apache  bowman 

Dared  his  fate  to  know. 
Hither,  thither,  surged  the  fighting 
Press,  the  god  of  war  delighting. 

While  the  river's  flow. 
Tireless,  ceaseless  in  persistence. 
Making  light  of  man's  resistance, 

Neither  swift  nor  slow, 
Washed  the  bloody  stains  of  battle 

From  the  rocks  below; 
147 


148  RIO  PECOS,    PECOS  RIVER. 

Heard,  as  hearing  childish  prattle, 
Crash  of  axe  and  musket  rattle, 

Cry  of  friend  and  foe; 
Heard,  and  hearing  in  its  steady 
Rhythmic  course  to  pool  and  eddy, 

As  it  moved  along. 
Told  the  grim  and  ghastly  story, 
And  the  tale  of  conflict  gory 

Wove  into  a  song; 
Rising,  falling,  as  the  water 
Rose  and  fell,  a  song  of  slaughter. 
Murdered  wife,  deflowered  daughter, 

Treachery  and  wrong; 
Swift  pursuit  and  stern  requital. 
Hour  of  fate  and  issue  vital. 

Thrusting,  grappling  throng; 
Vengeance  keen  and  struggle  bloody, 
Death  supreme  and  waters  ruddy 

As  the  prairie  rose; 
Ranger  hat  and  Indian  feather 
Floating  down  the  stream  together, 


RIO  PECOS,  PECOS  RIVER.  149 

Till  with  daylight's  close 
Came  the  night  on  raven  pinion, 
To  exert  her  calm  dominion, 

And  the  clang  of  blows, 
Shout  of  triumph,  song  of  gladness. 
Frenzied  yell  and  shriek  of  madness, 
Wail  of  grief  and  cry  of  sadness 

Hushed  into  repose. 


Rio  Pecos,  Pecos  River, 
Breezes  waver,  rushes  shiver. 
While  above  the  maddened  medley 
Of  the  final  conflict  deadly 
Floats  the  ragged-pinioned  buzzard, 
Scanning  calmly  human  hazard 

On  the  sands  below; 
Like  the  saga  bird,  the  raven, 
Presaging  to  every  craven 

Heart  its  overthrow. 


ISO  RIO  PECOS,   PECOS  RIVER. 

Swooping  downward,  upward  lifting, 
Wildly  flying,  slowly  drifting 

By  on  outspread  wing; 
Poising  deftly,  circling  trimly 
Overhead,  and  ever  grimly 

Narrowing  the  ring. 
Taking  loathly  joy  in  viewing 
Fray  and  bloodshed,  death  and  ruin, 

Pitch  of  human  ill; 
Gathering  in  filthy  caucus, 
Calling  ghoul-like  with  the  raucous 

Note  that  carries  chill, 
Kite  and  buzzard  each  to  other. 
Carrion  mate  to  carrion  brother, 

"  Come  and  glut  your  fill; 
Gorge  yourselves,  a  banquet  regal, 
Fit  for  vulture,  fit  for  eagle, 

Feast  beyond  compare 
Witless  men  are  now  providing. 
While  the  lords  of  prey  are  riding 

In  the  quiet  air, 


RIO  PECOS,    PECOS  RIVER.  151 

Watching  butchery  and  ravage, 
Grip  on  throttle,  grapple  savage, 

Choking  gurgling  breath; 
Men  expiring,  gasping,  shrieking, 
Till  the  air  around  is  reeking 

With  the  taint  of  death. 
Nearer  yet  and  nearer  flying, 
Hover  o'er  the  dead  and  dying, 
Each  to  other  bravely  crying, 

*  Meat  is  sweetest  raw,' 
Fasten  on  the  upward  staring 
Faces  and  the  eye-balls  glaring, 

Hack  with  bill  and  claw; 
Flesh  with  beak  and  talon  gripping. 
Flesh  from  bone  and  sinew  stripping, 

Till  with  glutted  craw, 
Of  the  banquet  nothing  bated. 
Lust  of  ofTal  richly  sated. 
We,  the  scavengers,  elated. 

Slowly  homeward  draw." 


152  RIO  PECOS,    PECOS  RIVER. 

Rio  Pecos,  Pecos  River, 
Think  thereon,  thou  quiet  liver 
In  the  land  of  law  and  order, 
Far  from  that  debated  border 

Where  a  day  of  doom. 
Chambers  dark  of  fate  unlocking 
Turned  the  Indian's  bitter  mocking 

Into  sullen  gloom; 
Pride  of  dusky  chieftain  humbling, 
Till  the  red  man,  backward  stumbling, 

Gave  the  white  man  room; 
Chilled  and  quenched  his  fire  and  fettle 
As  in  water  heat  of  metal 

Plunged,  is  lost  in  spume; 
Racial  passions  banked  and  serried, 
Burying,  as  men  are  buried 

In  the  quiet  tomb. 
Like  some  sorely  wounded  giant. 
Half  despairing,  half  defiant, 
Crouched  the  Indian,  still  reliant 

On  his  numbers'  strength; 


RIO  PECOS,   PECOS  RIVER.  153 

Shrinking  from  yet  braving  trial, 
Seeing  with  a  keen  espial 
Fated  hour  that  mocked  denial 

Surely  come  at  length; 
While  the  rugged  Texas  Ranger, 
Scorning  life  and  courting  danger, 

With  his  eye  of  blue 
Unexultant  viewed  the  wheeling 
Mob  of  riders,  only  feeling 

Hundreds  were  a  few; 
Steadily  his  station  keeping, 
As  the  shouting,  rushing,  leaping 

Foemen  closer  drew; 
Flower  of  the  Apache  nation 
Saw  displayed  without  elation, 

Saw  and  surely  knew 
Tragedy  supreme  in  acting; 
Servant  he  of  fate,  exacting 

Vengeance  overdue. 
Every  hero  single-handed 
Facing  squad  of  Indians  banded. 


154  RIO  PECOS,   PECOS  RIVER. 

As  an  eagle  crows ; 
Rifle  firmly  pressed  to  shoulder, 
Scanning  every  bush  and  boulder 

Whence  his  ambushed  foes, 
Lying  prone,  then  swiftly  springing 
Upward,  sent  the  bullet  singing 

Through  the  parting  air. 
Closer  yet  his  weapon  clinching, 
Arm  and  eye  alike  unflinching. 

Spread  the  skilful  snare. 
Drew  the  savage  from  his  cover, 
Chased  him  as  the  kite  the  plover, 

Drove  him  from  his  lair; 
Stern  and  cool  his  wily  foeman 
Fronting,  as  of  old  the  Roman 

Soldier  Gallia's  horde. 
Saw  them  bending,  breaking,  flying. 
Falling,  till  the  dead  and  dying 

Choked  the  Pecos  ford; 
Fleeing  from  his  aim  unerring 
As  from  dogfish  flees  the  herring. 


RIO  PECOS,   PECOS  RIVER.  155 

Mackerel  from  shark; 
Cowering,  scudding  as  the  partridge 
From  the  missile  of  the  cartridge 

Sped  toward  the  mark. 
Smiled  the  Ranger,  as  though  chasing 
Men  were  pleasure,  calmly  facing 

Death  and  final  throe; 
Saw  unmoved  the  life  blood  flowing 
Down  his  side,  unshaken  knowing 

That  the  set  of  sun 
Meant  to  him,  the  restless  rover. 
Journey's  ending,  labour  over. 

Human  errand  done. 
Death  to  him,  devoid  of  terrors. 
Brought  forgiveness  for  his  errors. 

Came  in  peace  and  love; 
Buying  for  a  life  of  sinning 
Pardon  thus,  and  surely  winning 

Mercy  from  above. 
Nay,  that  reckless  Indian  fighter. 
Thus  in  death  the  calm  requiter 


156  RIO  PECOS,   PECOS  RIVER. 

Of  a  people's  tear, 
Man  himself,  to  woman  tender, 
Hero  born,  and  stanch  defender, 

Knowing  naught  of  fear, 
Leaves  a  name  that  annal  hoary 
Still  shall  keep  embalmed  in  story. 
Crimson  with  the  flame  of  glory, 

Texas  pioneer. 


Rio  Pecos,  Pecos  River, 
This  the  tale  thou  didst  deliver 
On  a  day  in  early  summer. 
To  a  foreigner,  late  comer 

To  thy  bank  and  stream. 
Seemed  to  him  that  story  tragic 
Interwoven  with  the  magic 

Glamour  of  a  dream. 
Softly  o'er  the  sands  below  him 
Passed  the  Pecos  River,  flowing 

Southward  evermore; 


RIO  PECOS,    PECOS  RIVER.  157 

While  a  breeze  of  summer,  blowing 
Ruffling  counter  to  its  going, 
Trailing  flotsam  backward  throwing, 

Drove  the  swell  before ; 
Water's  face  with  bubbles  stippling. 
Till  the  wavelet,  gently  rippling, 

Lapped  the  further  shore. 
Overhead  in  azure  heaven 
Feathered  scavengers  eleven, 
Turkey-buzzards  four  and  seven 

Quietly  did  fare. 
Tranquilly  in  ether  floating, 
Seemed  asleep,  to  them  denoting 
Naught  that  worthy  was  of  coting 

Water,  earth  or  air. 
Landward,  on  the  waving  grasses 
Calmly  browsing,  slowly  passes 

Many  a  prairie  steer. 
While  a  troop  of  frolic  ponies. 
Scattering  the  startled  conies, 

Suddenly  appear, 


158  RIO  PECOS,   PECOS  RIVER. 

Wheeling  round  the  mesquite  bushes, 
NibbHng  daintily  the  rushes 

Of  the  gramma  sere. 
Peacefully  the  cattle  blinking, 
Peacefully  and  never  shrinking 

From  the  watcher's  eye; 
Tunefully  the  horse-bell  tinkling, 
Mares  at  rest,  with  never  inkling 

Of  a  danger  nigh. 
Set  the  wayworn  stranger  thinking 
And  the  scene  before  him  linking 

With  a  day  gone  by; 
Past  and  present  times  contrasting. 
Into  union  everlasting 

Blending  quietly. 
Times  of  joy  and  plenty  double 
Following  on  dearth  and  trouble 

As  the  day  the  night, 
After  hours  of  dark  confusion. 
When  the  sun  in  glad  profusion 

Sheds  abroad  his  light. 


RIO  PECOS,   PECOS  RIVER.  159 

Chasing  grief  and  cheering  sorrow, 
Bringing  with  the  shining  morrow 

Comfort  and  deHght. 
This  the  lesson,  God  doth  never 
From  his  faithful  servants  sever. 
But  abides  with  them  for  ever. 

Still  defends  the  right; 
Cometh  goodness  out  of  badness, 
Cometh  soundness  out  of  madness, 
Cometh  gladness  out  of  sadness. 

Concord  out  of  strife; 
After  sorrow  cometh  singing. 
After  death  shall  come  the  ringing 
Chant  of  joy,  our  spirits  bringing 

To  the  perfect  life. 


Rio  Pecos,  Pecos  River, 
Poet,  kneel  and  thank  the  Giver 
Of  all  good,  that  war  and  riot, 
Yielding  place  to  peace  and  quiet, 


l6o  RIO  PECOS,   PECOS  RIVER. 

Now  are  overpast ; 
And  this  smiling  Pecos  Valley, 
Scene  of  many  an  Indian  sally, 

Has  beheld  the  last. 
Nevermore  from  bluflf  or  barrow 
Forth  shall  fly  the  Indian  arrow, 

Hissing  poisoned  breath; 
Nevermore  need  ranger's  rifle 
Teach  the  red  man  that  to  trifle 

With  the  white  means  death. 
Nevermore  shall  dusky  raiders 
Hover  round  the  pale  invaders 

Of  their  hunting  grounds; 
Brave  and  squaw  alike  departed 
Scare  no  more  the  timid-hearted 

Farmer  with  the  sounds 
Which  his  ear  too  well  construing 
Knew  to  mean  dismay  and  ruin, 

As  the  bay  of  hounds 
Tells  the  antelopes,  arousing 
Buck  and  does  from  peaceful  browsing. 


RIO  PECOS,   PECOS  RIVER.  i6i 

Sudden  death  is  near. 
Tranquil  work  and  quiet  tillage 
Now  take  place  of  raid  and  pillage, 

Treachery  and  fear; 
Waving  fields  of  corn  and  forage 
Greet  the  stranger  and  encourage 

Him  to  persevere. 
There  the  settler's  worthy  labour, 
Unrestrained  by  lawless  neighbour. 

Steadily  proceeds, 
Changing,  like  some  kindly  fairy. 
Barren  hill  and  arid  prairie 

Into  woods  and  meads. 
Orchard,  tilth  and  vineyard  spreading 
Round  the  farmer's  modest  steading. 

Gladdening  his  home; 
Neigh  of  horse  and  low  of  cattle 
Mingling  with  his  children's  prattle. 

While  the  sandy  loam, 
After  centuries  of  slumber 
Wakes,  the  tiller's  barn  to  cumber 


i62  RIO  PECOS,   PECOS  RIVER. 

With  a  plenteous  yield; 
Teaching  him  no  more  to  grumble 
At  his  lot  and  prize  the  humble 

Labours  of  the  field; 
Teaching  him  to  shun  the  hollow 
Ways  of  men  and  meekly  follow 

Nature  where  she  leads, 
Thanking  her,  the  generator, 
Thanking  humbly  the  Creator 

Who  his  daily  needs 
Thus  providing,  sets  before  him 
Table  bountiful  and  o'er  him 

Stretches  out  His  arm; 
He,  the  Guardian  unsleeping. 
Evermore  His  servant  keeping 

Well  secured  from  harm. 
Thank  Him,  farmer,  for  the  morning, 
Thank  Him  for  the  eve's  adorning, 

Thank  Him  for  the  rain; 
Thank  Him  when  the  night  is  ended, 
Thank  Him  when  the  sun  descended 


RIO  PECOS,   PECOS  RIVER.  163 

Bringeth  in  its  train 
Ease  of  labour,  homeward  wending-, 
To  the  great  Provider  bending, 

Thank  Him  once  again. 
Kneel  before  Him,  valley  tiller, 
Kneel  before  the  great  Fulfiller 

Of  thy  peaceful  days; 
Thus  thy  labour  vivifying. 
Thus  thy  living  purifying, 
Thus  thy  dying  sanctifying. 

Give  to  Him  the  praise. 


L'ENVOI. 

Thou  little  volume  of  my  verse, 

Go  forth,  and  murmur  not, 
I  needs  must  put  thee  out  to  nurse, 

For  such,  alas!  thy  lot. 
To  beg  thy  bread  from  strangers'  hands, 

An  exile  from  thy  home, 
A  wanderer  over  seas  and  lands, 

My  little  book,  to  roam. 

A  slender  weanling  still  thou  art, 

Scarce  fit  to  walk  alone, 
Yet  maybe  none  will  take  thy  part 

Or  heed  thy  feeble  moan. 
"  O,  take  me  up!  "  I  hear  thee  cry, 

"  My  author  turns  me  out!  " 
The  busy  public  pass  thee  by. 

Or  listen  but  to  flout. 
164 


L'ENVOI.  165 

Ah,  cruel  fate  that  wills  it  so, 

Dear  booklet  of  my  heart, 
I  scarce  can  bear  to  see  thee  go, 

Yet  thou  and  I  must  part. 
Tho'  for  thy  sake  thy  father  stays 

Behind  thee  at  the  Ranch, 
His  love  attends  thee  on  thy  ways. 

Thou  Httle  olive-branch. 

Perchance  the  world  is  not  so  cold 

As  thou,  my  book,  dost  fear, 
And  some  kind  friend  thy  hand  may  hold 

And  whisper  words  of  cheer. 
If  such  there  be,  whate'er  his  name, 

Straight  to  his  breast  repair, 
Stake  out  within  his  heart  thy  claim, 

And  build  thy  homestead  there. 


;  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  UBHARYFAC 


A    000  310  971 


